Yee Naldooshi: The Skinwalker Murders
by Dr Fox
Summary: A quartet of best friends find that the supernatural may be the only way to explain the murders and mind control taking place in their town. Agents Mulder and Scully also investigate. This is 10 chapters. Would you please consider writing a review so I have feedback? Thank you! (I make no claim to ownership of the characters of Mulder and Scully).
1. Chapter 1

Yee Naldooshi

By

Doctor Fox

Chapter 1

Suddenly, Jimmy Choo biker boots seemed like a poor choice for a ride into the countryside. Even Jimmy Choo boots bought off eBay. Julie glared at Mo as her friend fought to control the aging car.

Morgan Baker, known as Mo to her friends, wrestled the car to the side of the gravel road, a _whump whump whump_ sound from the front of the vintage Honda causing her to wince. Low hanging tree branches scraped the paint along the outside of the car. A flat tire from the sound of it, and from the way Mo had to fight to get the car stopped safely. Once stopped, she took a deep breath, glancing out the window and taking in the empty surroundings, a countryside devoid of housing and people.

Julie Steiger, the only other person in the car, looked down at her iconic gold-studded boots that were guaranteed to look good with skinny leg jeans and then stared out the windshield, lips pressed into an uncompromising line. "Dammit, Morgan, what did you run over? I told you I should drive."

Mo, who was only called Morgan when Julie was in a pissy mood, glared at her singing partner, green eyes narrowed. "I drive, always. And I didn't run over anything except bugs and rocks. You're the one who gave directions." She jabbed her finger at Julie's shoulder. "You are the one who sent us out here on this wild goose chase."

With a loud sigh, Julie grabbed the door handle that still featured manual window controls and slowly pushed open the door, grunting with the effort it took to push the door against the tree branches pressed against the side of the car.

"What are you doing? You're going to scratch the side of the car. Crawl over here and get out." Mo opened her door easily and climbed out to look at the tire. She ignored the grumbling from inside the car as Julie tried to clamber over the center console, cursing as her knee hit the dashboard.

She looked at the tire. Not just flat, part of the sidewall was missing. Mo bent to look at the tire, absently listening as Julie racked her head on the ceiling of the car. If she didn't know better, it almost looked like the tire was shot, but everyone knew that shooting the tire of a moving vehicle was difficult, and who would want to shoot at her anyway?

Dirt kicked up beside her, followed by the crack of gunfire. Mo fell back onto the gravel road in surprise, feeling the bite of the gravel through her thin yoga pants, then stared in amazement when the driver's side window shattered, accompanied by another explosion of noise. Julie began screaming. "Someone is shooting at us. Get us out of here!"

Mo scrambled to her feet and leaped for the open door of the car, throwing herself into the seat and pulling the door shut behind her. She reached across and pushed Julie's head down. "Julie, stop it! Stop screaming." She groped under the seats, then pulled a pistol from its holster, taking care to stay low.

Julie whimpered, raised her head to look out the window, then shrieked as the crack of a gunshot blasted the Honda. She looked at Mo. "I should have bought a gun, too."

Mo spared a glance at Julie Steiger and swallowed an I-told-you-so. She turned her attention to her cell phone. No signal.

"Julie? We are sitting ducks here. Can you remember from the GPS if there is some place near here?"

No answer.

"Steiger! Come on, wake up. Where is the nearest town? We've got to get out of here,"

Julie's panicked gaze spotted the GPS. She stared at it. "The only place close is the fish camp, but that is about 10 miles from here. Or we can try to get back to the main road."

They stared at each other, appalled. Ten miles. On a flat tire. With a gunman shooting at the car.

"What about your map that led us out here? Anything on it?"

Julie scrutinized the small map. "I can't tell!" she wailed. "There are marks on here, but I don't know what they mean!"

"When we get back to civilization, I'm going to hurt you," Mo promised. "Looks like we hike back to the main road."

"I can't hike in these boots!" protested Julie.

"Of course you can! I don't care what you paid for them.."

"No, really. These will slow us down. Is your workout bag still in the back?"

Mo frantically turned in her seat to look in the rear of the car. Spying her gym bag, she quickly unzipped it and found sneakers. She scooped them up and dumped them in Julie's lap. "Hurry up. We have got to get moving!"

Quickly Mo changed her boots for sneakers. "Ready," she announced.

"Grab your bag. I will come around and get your door open, then we haul ass. We'll stay in the trees and see if that protects us a little," she said. "1. 2. 3!"

Mo threw open her door and ran to Julie's side. Pulling tree branches out of the way, she helped pull open the door so Julie could safely exit. Crouching low, the two ducked branches and fled into the forest. Gunshots followed them into the woods, which were denser than they liked. Low-hanging branches whacked them in the face, slippery leaves on the ground caused them to slide, and exposed roots tripped them up as they frantically ran.

The trees and distance muffled the gunshots then the sound of gunfire faded altogether. They kept running. The two needed to get back to the main road and find a good Samaritan to drive them back to town and then they had to figure out would shoot at them. Hunters could be ruled out, and ok, sure, there were a few people back in town who might want to take a crack at them, but out here in the middle of nowhere? It didn't make any sense.

"I hate nature," grunted Mo as she tripped and yet another shrub glanced her face and tangled in her hair. Julie stopped and came back to lend her a hand. Mo rose, then groaned and grabbed her side. "I've got to stop for a minute. This running is killing me!" Panting, both women dropped to the ground to rest while the stomach cramp subsided.

"Hey, if you hadn't ruined the car, we wouldn't be in this mess," replied Julie in a hard, unforgiving tone.

"I didn't ruin the car!" snapped Mo.

"That car was a piece of crap anyway," Julie snorted. It was true; it was a piece of crap. The windshield wipers worked sporadically, jerking through each swipe. The windshield had a film caused by years of build-up. The rear passenger door wouldn't open because the lock had seized. The shocks had long ago ceased to offer any protection from bumps, yet for some reason, Mo insisted on driving the beater 20 miles out of town, leaking oil and transmission fluid along every inch of the way.

"Those bullet holes aren't going to do anything for your trade in value," she said snidely. Julie was pretty sure that she could hear Mo grunt after that comment.

Mindful of who could be following, they got back to their feet, and the two women suffered through what seemed like a mile or two of walking. They tried to keep quiet as possible, which meant reducing the bickering to only when it was necessary to express dissatisfaction with their current predicament.

Julie didn't mind the complaining. Thinking about their friendship took her mind off their circumstances momentarily. Complaining and blaming the other for one thing or another, whether true or not, had become somewhat natural. She knew what that bickering was, Mo understood it, too; unbeknownst to onlookers, it was a healthy way of maintaining their relationship. Singers who moonlighted as amateur detectives didn't have an easy life, especially two women in man's world. Bottling up that emotion would only result in high blood pressure and someone blowing a gasket. Blowing a gasket…

"You know, it was only a matter of time before that ugly car of yours blew a head gasket. You should be feeling good, maybe insurance will pay you enough for a down payment on a new car." Steiger was just trying to grate Mo's nerves and Mo knew it. A few paces later, Julie wasn't sure if Mo intentionally held that tree branch so it would slap her in the face like a loaded rubber band, or if it was just by accident. Julie was skeptical, as usual.

"Listen, we're going to hit the road anytime now. We've been walking forever. You need to relax." Julie knew when it was time to be the peace keeper. They had obviously left the gunman behind. Their only worry now was reaching the road. Mo was stressed. Ok, not stressed. Mo was pissed, and sometimes she took a while to work off the anger. Julie had an innate sense of direction and knew they'd be safe soon. It was time to ease Mo back into the spirit of adventure that they so adored enjoying together.

"Hey, was that a car? I think I just heard a car." Julie was sure of it and dashed ahead, with Mo running behind her. Sure enough, after climbing up and down a ditch with an embankment that added more filth to their already dirty hands and left their knees stained with mud, they arrived at the edge of the major roadway.

"Alright, show some leg, Mo. We need a ride, and fast. It's getting frickin cold out here." The sun was beginning to set. They could see their breath in the cool evening air.

"You're so much better at being slutty, Steiger, you show some leg. And flash some cleavage while you're at it."

"LISTEN, Morgan…" Just as they were about to get into a shouting match, a truck appeared. Not a city dweller's truck, this was a farm truck cruising along at a slow pace. They both looked at the approaching vehicle. To Julie, it was neither a car nor a truck… it was a chariot. Their chariot. Their chariot was coming to their rescue to sweep them up out of the cruel wilderness, which was rife with bugs, dirt and other unsanitary things, to deliver them back to humanity, to civilization. Their chariot was slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road. Julie entertained a brief fantasy, hoping that the driver was reminiscent of Brad Pitt whilst wearing the kilt-like thing that he wore in Troy. Mo merely hoped a chain-saw wielding mutant was not at the wheel.

As the truck rolled to a stop just in front of them, they could see the driver lean over the bench seat, and roll down the window about 4 inches.

"Ya'll need a ride?"

He wasn't Brad Pitt.

Nor was he a look-alike.

Rather, Mo was certain that this individual was missing a tooth. Maybe more than one tooth. And what was that smell?

"Yes, please!" said Steiger heading up to the window.

"Git on in here then. It's gettin' cold out there."

The helpful farmer opened the heavy door of his ancient truck and the two private investigators took their places on the bench seat. Julie was kind enough to hold the door and allow Mo to sit in the middle, square right in front of the floor gear shift. That left Julie sitting on an exposed spring covered with a ratty bath towel.

Despite the discomfort associated with this ride into town, they were both happy they were making it back to town. Mo quietly thought to herself that vehicles with a center gear shift should be outlawed since changing gears made things a bit too personal for the person riding in the middle. Meanwhile, Julie was simply amazed that this 1970's pickup truck was far more comfortable and reliable than Mo's ugly Honda. In fact, she was happy that thing was gone.

As the rusty old Ford pickup rumbled off, a dark figure stepped out of the brush and watched the two women head down the road. Lucky timing for them. Not so lucky for himself. He tossed his hair, the long black strands flowing back over his shoulder. He lowered the muzzle of his gun, keeping a firm grip on the stock, and silently eased back into the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 2

"Alex! Alex! Thank God you're answering your phone!" Mo continued, "You wouldn't believe the day we've had."

Alex rolled her eyes, then glanced back down at the reports that she held in her hand. Half-heartedly listening to the phone that she had squeezed in between her chin and shoulder, Alex was pretty sure that there was grumbling in the background about something being dirty… or was it hungry… which ever, she was sure it was Julie who was now muttering about bed bugs and cheap hotels.

"What are you two up to now?" Alex tried to concentrate on the fact that this account really relied on the need to secure a viable marketing presence that would resound with the upscale middle-American family. Marketing was getting so cut-throat, but one's advertisements had to be subtle yet hide that fact at the same time. Attract the right people and those people will come because they want what you have, you just need to sell it. "Sell it." Alex could hear the word's of her boss ringing in her ear as she reviewed the demographic data for the area in which they were trying to slap in the newest "Whole Foods" market.

"Oh my God, my car… I'm so pissed off right now, and I'm about to kill Julie…"

Were the local demographics quite right for this upscale grocer? Alex was not convinced. Not convinced at all. Organic foods and locally sourced products would typically cost a bit more than the basic retail supermarket, and Alex just wasn't sure that this was the right market.

"My car is dead, Alex. It's dead. Listen..."

This prospective town was already a bit depressed as a result of a recent bankruptcy and layoff at the local manufacturing plant… why introduce a store that provided product at least 34% higher than what the consumers were already paying? Alex couldn't make sense of it. Hold on… what did Mo say?

"What? Julie's dead?"

"No, my car is dead. Would you listen to me for a change? The Honda is a goner and we're stranded. I need your help," said Mo.

"Mo, I'm kinda busy here…"

"Alex, we're stranded. Do you know what stranded means?"

"I've got a presentation to the board of directors." She had taken pains to wear a power suit for her presentation that said she was a woman on the rise. Her blond hair matched the business attire, and was gathered into a smooth french knot.

"I swear, I'm going to kill Julie unless you come right now. She is driving me insane. I need you to come and get us out of this dump. Please? We're on to something big here. Alex, we need your help."

Alex, short for Alexis, heard the desperate plea on the other side of the phone and thought to herself, "Dangit." She could hear Julie grumbling and pacing in what she presumed to be dingy motel room. Alex knew what was going on. They were in a situation. A "situation". They were always in a "situation", it seemed.

"Mo, I got some things going on here."

"Write this address down. I promise it will be quick. It's Friday night, you shouldn't be working anyways."

Sure, Alex had a load of work to do. For instance, there was the miserable outlook of having to present this worst case scenario to the board of directors. Being polished for the presentation was critical, especially since she had a terrible fear of public speaking.

"Is she coming to get us?" she heard Julie ask.

Julie had tired from pacing and taken a prone position on the lone king sized bed. Julie could hear that the phone conversation was going no where. Frustration gave way to irritation. Morgan and Alex needed someone to take charge. "Tell her that I'm going to beat her ass if she doesn't show up here within the hour."

"Hey, I'm trying to get this thing done at work tonight so I can… Oh alright." Dammit, Alex, thought to herself as she asked. One night. One night, that's all she asked for. Between work and saving the fearless duo from ridiculous escapades, Alex wished for one quiet evening. One quiet evening or save her fair friends from impending doom, this was her decision.

Actually, come to think of it, Julie and Mo were fairly safe. They were in a relatively clean motel room and had one king sized bed to share. What could possibly go wrong? Other than Julie snoring, what could go wrong?

"Write this down," Mo demanded.

Alex sighed, or was it an agonized moan, "Oh… Ugh… I'll get you in the morning. Is that okay? I can't do it tonight. I promise. First thing in the morning." Alex was determined to sleep in till 9 tomorrow, maybe even 9:15.

Hearing that, Mo glared at Julie. Julie was such a bed hog. One night. Surely, she could suffer one night.

The flimsy door of the hotel room swung open before Alex could knock a second time.

"Thank God you're here," said Julie.

"What happened to you?" Julie's red hair was teased up like a drunken cockatoo's crest.

"Just get us out of this place. I need a shower. In fact, I need two showers." Julie barrelled past Alex with coat in hand and headed directly toward Alex's car.

"Well, why didn't you take a shower this morning?"

"Because we weren't planning to stay overnight! We didn't pack..." Her last sentence was cut short by the slam of the passenger door.

Mo emerged from the dark motel room and paused to wave her pistol in the air in front of Alex. "I _am _packing, and this piece of luggage says to get us home, now, before I unload a clip on the red-head." Mo's bedhead was no more flattering than Julie's.

Alexis sighed. It was going to be a long ride home. Hopefully the ride would also be silent.

Alex popped two Ibuprofen in her mouth and drank from her bottle of water. The ride home had not been silent and she was left with a headache. Mo and Julie had reached an amicable truce after their showers, and were the best of friends again. All that remained of the tension in the car was Alex's headache.

The three women stood at Julie's dining room table. Paper was strewn across every inch of oak. "I'm still not even sure what you guys were doing," Alex said.

Julie gave a long sigh and pointed to the newspapers on the table. She spoke in an overly patient voice. "We've got a lead on a case. Missing persons. Technically, you'd call it a cold case. This woman has been missing for about 10 years." Julie shuffled a variety of newspaper clippings. "_Wealthy Field Scientist Missing_." "_Scientist Missing 3 Months. Police Still Searching_." "_Police Give Up Hope Of Finding Researcher_."

"You know how Mo has these dreams of living in the country. Well, she asked her realtor about a piece of land; it's got a cabin on it right next to a lake. Really private. Quiet. Serene. And, while they were chatting, the realtor mentioned that this property was essentially right next to the area where this scientist was last seen. So, we kinda started looking into the missing persons case."

"Do not blame this on me," Mo said heatedly, truce apparently forgotten. "I had to take a look at the property. You were the one who wanted to start us on this hunt."

Julie continued, "It just so happens that the cabin and land are close to an area that I am curious about." She pulled out a small map that had hand-drawn symbols written on it. "This is the map that I found after my...incident."

Alex sighed. "Right. So, I'm guessing this isn't over yet."

Julie answered with a quiet "No."

To move the topic away from the 'incident', Mo began raving enthusiastically about the cabin. "I want you to look over the cabin with me," Mo wheedled. "You've got such a great sense of style."

"You want me to go out there? Remember, there was someone shooting at you!"

"I'm sure it was just a concerned neighbor protecting the homestead," said Mo blithely. "If you live in the country, people are neighborly and they are going to take care of you. So unlike the city. We just need to get to know each other, you know, new neighbor to new neighbor. You're going to want to move to the country once you see how wonderful it is."

Neither Julie nor Alex was buying this particular line. Mo was always wanting to get away. One day it was the country in a secluded cottage, the next it was the oceanfront with a little bookstore. Yet neither would satisfy her sense of adventure. The search was endless.

Seeing their doubtful looks, Mo said, "Besides, there's a suspicious map. A building that we wanted to reach but got stopped by gunshots. And weird events. Aren't you intrigued?"

"I think there might be something to this, Alex. Don't dismiss it," said Julie. "Call it women's intuition, but I am very interested in this place. I just have a feeling that it is significant to what happened during my 'incident'. And then there is the part about the missing scientist. We're not exactly sure what that scientist was after, or why but there's something on this land. I can feel it. We can feel it."

"You think there's something there. You've got a feeling. Well, I've got a real feeling about this, too. I feel like if someone is shooting at you, then you should stay away!" said Alex.

"Alex," said Mo softly. "This really is suspicious. If we look hard enough, we're going to find our answer, and maybe even the scientist and whatever she was searching for."

"Hey, look at this," Julie interrupted. She was perusing a geologic map that denoted every contour and every sketchy road possible. "If we take Forest Road 1013 down the the other side of the ridge here," she pointed to a spot on the map, "we could get to that marked place on my map by going in on the north side rather than the south side like we did yesterday. And, we wouldn't even have to see that dang Honda of yours. We'd bypass it."

Mo's nostrils flared. She loved that car. In fact, she was still pissed off about how it met an untimely end. That car could go for another 100,000 miles, easy. It was still salvageable. In fact, she was going to consider rescuing her beloved car as an optional mission for this weekend. She decided to keep that notion under wraps for the moment.

"We just need something with 4-wheel drive," continued Julie.

"Wait a second," Alex tried to interject, but had no success in getting anyone's attention.

"Julie, let's bring all of our gear this time," Mo said with excitement. "We might need to do a stake-out. But I'm not getting stuck in the middle of nowhere a second time without our stuff."

"Want me to bring the shotgun?"

"Yeah."

The two singers slash private-eyes were off in a flurry. Alex stood in bewilderment in front of the dining room table, amazed at how fast the women were buzzing around.

Alex tried again to get their attention. "I said, Wait a second!" she yelled.

Julie paused from throwing a fleece blanket on top of her body pillow. "Did we forget something?"

"Yes! Where are you going to a get a 4-wheel drive to take out to a mountain cabin beset with a gun-shooting hermit?"

"No problem. We'll call Tate. As long as we tell her there is fishing involved, she won't mind at all."

One phone call and an hour later, Tate arrived at Julie's. Tate was a friend who worked a thankless job in government service, but the upside was that it left her with three-day weekends for fishing. Throw in a little sequestration and she could possibly fish for a week or two at a time. All that fishing also meant that Tate kept a 4-wheel drive pickup on hand.

The four women were standing in Julie's garage, surveying the mountain of equipment piled in the center of the cement floor. Cute clothes and warm boots suitable for a mountain climate were packed, along with hair products, plenty of moisturizer, and food.

"Mo, you want my truck? Why?" Tate was addressing Mo, but she left off looking at the camping supplies to begin looking at Alex.

"Tate, pay attention. We need to use your truck to get us back up the mountain. Someone shot out my tire and…"

Tate's gaze zipped to Mo. "Shot? Your car got shot and you want me to loan you my truck? Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind?"

Julie butted in, since the conversation appeared to be going downhill. "There's a fish camp not far from there. Pack your fishing things and you can fish after you drop us off."

Tate looked back at Alex. Seeing where her gaze was focused, Julie said, "I'm sorry. Let me introduce you. Tate, this is…"

"We've met," Alex said smoothly, and put out her slim hand in greeting.

"Yes, we have. I wasn't sure you would remember, " said Tate, as she put her hand out to grasp Alex's in a handshake that was more of a hand-holding motion.

"Of course I remember. You were singing Joan Jett on the stage of The Crazy Parrot. I was there for a drink after work. It was spectacular. But, I thought you were joining Julie and Mo in their singing group."

Tate blushed. "No. That was just me, fooling around. I'm not a professional like they are."

Mo rolled her eyes. "Come on you two. Tate, get your keys, we need to go. You can admire each other later." To which, both Tate and Alex smiled sheepishly, their eyes still locked together.


	3. Chapter 3

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 3

After much grumbling and culling the supplies for what would fit into one backpack each, the four women bounced along the rutted road in the 4-wheel drive pickup, following Forest Road 1013. "Look," Julie yelled, pointing to a dirt road. "Maybe that's a shortcut to the house! Turn, turn!"

Tate maneuvered the truck onto the dirt road and slowly travelled until a small structure came into sight. She brought the truck to a halt next to a wooden door that appeared to be the entrance into the square building. Shutting off the engine, the women opened the truck doors and emerged cautiously.

"Is this the fish camp?" Mo asked.

"I don't know what this is," admitted Julie. "I just saw the road and thought it might get us to the building on the map a little faster. I was afraid my spleen would rupture if I had to be on that road much longer."

Mo gazed at the building with curiosity. "Well, let's see if anyone is in there." Striding to the door, she knocked quietly. After hearing no response, she knocked again, louder. Then, she twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door.

"Hey, Goldilocks, what are you doing? Don't go in there," Julie commanded.

Tate chimed in. "Stay outta there. You're going to get arrested!"

Mo turned. "Aren't you the least bit curious to see what is in here?" Then she stepped in quietly.

Julie, Tate, and Alex looked at each other, then Julie's bravado got the better of her and she crossed to the open door. "I've got her back," she said. Tate hesitated then said, "We'll just wait for you here." Both Tate and Alex took a spot by the door, looking out at the land around the small home. Julie shrugged and entered.

After her eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting inside, Julie felt mild disappointment as she looked around. "This is someone's house," she said.

"Yes, I know. Someone with not so great taste," and Mo held up copies of _Playboy_ and _Modern Mercenary._

Julie's eyes widened. "Do you think the shooter lives here?"

"I think we can't afford to not think that," said Mo. She pointed to a box of ammunition sitting atop a table.

Just then, there was a tap at the door and Tate stuck in her head. "Uh…I'm going to head to the fish camp and drown a few worms. Alex is going with me. Do you want me to take you to your car first?"

"No, you two go on ahead, but we need to get our stuff out of the bed of your truck," said Mo. "We're going to stake out this place and see who shows up. Once we find the owner, we may find our shooter."

Julie slowly nodded her head. "I want to know what Mo did to piss off someone enough the he tried to kill her for real."

"Us. Not just me. They were trying to kill us."

"Ok, whatever," said Tate. "We're going to leave a radio for you since there is no cell phone reception. You call us when you're ready to get picked up."

"Or rescued again…" called Alex from outside.

Tate burst into manic laughter, and was joined by Alex as the two walked to the truck. They continued to chortle even while Julie and Mo unloaded their gear. Their laughter carried through the open truck window, fading only as the truck sped down the dirt road. A cloud of dirt churned out by the truck tires drifted back. It was Mo's turn to laugh as Julie erupted into a coughing fit, waving her hand in front of her face to blow back the dirt.

Neither woman was laughing hours later, as the day grew longer and there was no sign of the mysterious shooter.

"I'm hungry," said Julie.

"I blame you," Mo said.

"You blame me for being hungry? That's just stupid."

Mo held up a hand. "I hear something," she whispered.

Both women held themselves motionless, straining to hear.

Another sound came from outside, as if someone was brushing up against the building. Mo motioned to Julie to hide, then rose and moved silently to stand beside the door, gun in hand.

The door creaked open, and a tall figure entered the room.

"Freeze!" yelled Mo.

The man turned to face her, then sprang, knocking her to the floor. Her gun flew across the floor, sliding far out of reach. Panic lent strength to her and she fought wildly, attempting to punch him. She was effortlessly subdued, and a heavy male body settled on top of Mo, strong hands holding hers above her head.

Panting, Mo ceased her struggles as she stared into warm brown eyes. Hoo boy, she thought. This better not be the bad guy.

"I froze," an amused voice said. "Is this position ok for not moving?"

Ooh yes, she thought, but said instead, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm Fox Mulder. Special Agent Fox Mulder, to be exact."

An F.B.I agent? Crap! Mo tried again, "Do you have a search warrant?"

Mulder settled his hips into the vee of her legs, enjoying the feel of her hips cradling his. "I'd like to do a search. Would you mind?"

A low pitched woman's voice spoke. "Mulder, stop with the corny pick-up lines and let her up."

Both Mo and Mulder turned toward the cool voice. A petite red-haired woman stood by the door, one pale hand on her hip. A toe-tapping noise brought Mo's attention to the red-haired woman's feet. High heels.

"I thought she might appreciate my suave repartee," said Mulder, but he got to his feet then helped Mo get up. They both tried to gain a shred of composure by straightening their clothes.

"Scully, meet...what is your name?" Special Agent Fox Mulder smiled, full of boyish charm.

"Mo. Morgan. Morgan Baker."

"Well, Morgan, this is my partner, Agent Scully."

Mo looked around. Spotting Julie, who had hidden during the struggle with the FBI Agent, she pointed. "That's my partner, Julie Steiger."

"Partner? You uh, you're involved?"

Julie snickered. "Mo is my singing partner."

"Right. Gotcha." Mulder unobtrusively checked out Mo's face, then his gaze wandered slowly down her body. He jerked his eyes back to Scully after she cleared her throat.

"Mulder, maybe this would be a good time to ask Ms. Baker and Ms. Steiger why they are in an unlocked house that we suspect belongs to an assassin."

"You are the one who thinks he is an assassin. Mo, Julie, have you ever heard of therianthropy?**" **

Met with blank expressions, Mulder settled back to pontificate. "Therianthropy is the transformation of humans into animals. Or vice versa of course."

"Of course," Scully said, rolling her eyes.

"The oldest forms of shamanism and totemism refer to therianthropy. You or I might call someone who has this skill a shapeshifter."

Julie sidled over to Mo, and then elbowed her gently. When Mo looked at her, Julie murmured, "Cute, but crazy." Mo determinedly tuned out her voice.

"Mulder," Scully said in a loud whisper, "aren't you concerned that these two might be shapeshifters?"

Mulder ignored Scully's question and continued to attempt to impress the hot babes with additional minutiae. He relied on his sixth sense, so to speak. He knew who he was after when he was on a case. And despite having only the rarest opportunities to date, he knew who to chase.

Mo turned away from Julie to look at Mulder. "Fox…"

"Please, call me Mulder."

"Mulder, I'm not a shapeshifter," she said earnestly. "Really."

Mulder picked up Mo's hand and laced his fingers with hers while looking deeply into her eyes. "I know."

"Mulder, we're not getting anywhere here. These people don't know anything," snorted Scully. "We need to check out the stream. And the logging camp... check _something_ before it gets too late."

Mulder ignored Scully and continued to stare into Mo's big green eyes.

"How do you know?" Mo asked.

"Because you don't smell like you've had animal skin on you. Well, your leather jacket doesn't count." His eyes surveyed her from head to toe… correction from toe to head ending in a gaze that they shared for a moment until the moment was broken.

"Good grief, Mulder," groaned Scully. Julie's eyes rolled back at that exact moment. She was beginning to like this Scully woman. She seemed to make a lot of sense.

"What?" asked Mulder innocently.

He continued, "We are tracking a skin-walker. Skin-walkers transform into an animal by wearing the pelt of that animal. Scully's 'assassin'," Mulder made quote marks with his fingers, "is wearing the pelt of a leopard."

"Actually, ladies, we are trailing an all-too-human killer. Could you tell me how you happen to be in the home of a man suspected of killing seven women?" asked Scully.

Mo pulled her hand away from Mulder. She faced Scully. "Julie and I had a tip that something weird was going on out in this area, so we came to investigate."

"Investigate? I thought you two were singers," said Scully.

"Oh we are. But we are also very curious. And sometimes we play Nancy Drew."

"I see," said Scully. Her tone left no doubt that she did not find this hobby suitable for two singers, nor did she believe that there was any possibility in garnering any additional useful information from these two.

"Anyway… Julie had an 'incident'."

"Could you describe this 'incident' to me?" asked Scully.

Mo hesitated. "Well… um, let's just say she had an intimate encounter with a priest."

"What?" Scully no longer sounded disapproving. She sounded shocked.

Julie walked over and slugged Mo in the arm. "You didn't have to say it like that!" She turned to face Scully. "I met a man in a bar. He wore that priest collar thingy, average height, sort of looked Native American...dark hair that he wore in a braid. We started talking, then things got kind of sexy but weird, and the next thing I know, we're in bed together."

"Oh yes, Julie, that's a much better explanation," said Mo.

"After a few hours in bed, my head kind of cleared and …"

"Cleared?" asked Scully. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm don't really have a memory of how we got from the bar to the time we were in bed. But like I said, my head cleared and I got worried because it seemed he still hadn't...you know."

"No. Know what?" Scully looked shocked still, but fascinated.

"He still hadn't… ok I'll just say it. He still was hard! He hadn't ejaculated!"

"My hero," murmured Mulder.

"When I told him that I didn't want to be there anymore, and maybe he might want to hurry up, he growled at me. Like an angry animal. A real animal, I mean. Not a sexual sound," said Julie.

Scully cleared her throat, then dabbed at her forehead.

"After he growled, I got a bit frightened. Frightened, but aroused at the same time, but it was like I couldn't help but want to be with him even though I really didn't want to be there, if you know what I mean. Then, he lifted me up and pulled my body on top of his, and he looked at me, deep into my eyes, and then. Then, ok this will sound strange, but he looked like me."

"He looked at you?" Scully asked.

"No. He looked _like _me."

Mulder stepped forward. "Would you say that he draped your body over his?"

Julie looked embarrassed. "Yes."

Mulder smiled, and turned to Scully in delight. "He's a skin-walker. He _wore _Julie and started to shapeshift to look like her! This is amazing."

"Alternately," said Scully, "the fake priest was trolling for a victim, slipped a drug into her drink at the bar, and she hallucinated the rest of it."

"I did not!" said Julie. "I was sore for two days after three hours of constant sex!" She slapped her hand over her mouth, turning red. "Sometimes, I don't think before I speak," she said.

Mo started laughing. "I can vouch for that."

Mulder interrupted the laughter. "What brought you to this house?"

Julie said, "After he looked like me, I screamed. Then I picked up the lamp from the bedside table and hit him over the head. He fell to the floor, then the person in the hotel room next door started banging on the wall, saying he was calling security. So Father Kelly, at least I think that was the priest's name, got up, put on his clothes, and left. But he dropped this," and she held up a map.

"What is this?" asked Scully.

"It's a map of this area," said Julie. "It includes the property that Mo wants to buy. And look, here is this house!"

"You two have no business being here. You should head back to town. Mulder and I are investigating, and you need to stay out of the way." Scully was sometimes lacking in diplomacy.

"And, it turns out that the property next door is up for sale, and it seems like a pretty good plot of land. Quiet, serene. On top of that, the property is on a suspicious map that we have in our possession because of a mysterious circumstance. A scientist went missing on this land 10 years ago, and we think that we might be to find out if this is all linked together. So, there is a reason for us being here," stated Mo, matter of factly. "And, we're not leaving until we check this place out."

Mulder pulled Scully back near the threshold. "We're not going to get rid of them. Plus they might be of help. This is a huge territory to cover."

"Mulder, no. They are civilians. And besides, that Mo keeps looking at you like you're a steak on the grill and she hasn't eaten in a week."

"I know. Glad you noticed," said Mulder. "Relax Scully. What could happen?"


	4. Chapter 4

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 4

After additional pleasantries, the agents finally departed at the behest of Agent Scully. The two singers slash private eyes were on their own again and decided to search the grounds around the empty cabin. Mo was bubbling inside because she had Agent Mulder's business card in hand, just in case she needed to reach him. She had shoved the card into her jacket pocket, but periodically, she felt the need to pull it out while Julie wasn't looking.

However, Julie was looking. In fact, she was certain she would dry heave if she watched Mo fawn over that card one more time.

"He said to call if WE found something related to the CASE," called out Julie as she continued to search around the brush near the garage. "It's not an invitation for a date."

Mo shoved the card back into her pocket. She had two choices: either respond to Julie's unspoken assertion or fume silently. To her, it was quite plausible that Agent Mulder might have been interested in her. She clearly remembered him saying "call me". In fact, it was quite obvious that he was interested. Julie could be so dense sometimes. She chose to fume silently.

After thirty minutes of futile search, the two stood together under a shade tree. "Listen," Mo said matter of factly, "I think we need to move on. There's nothing here. All we know about this place is that the person who lives here is interested in women and guns. That's all. Nothing out of the ordinary, and nobody's shown."

"We haven't really found anything useful here," agreed Julie. "You want to bag it and find the Honda?"

"No, I'm curious about where this stream leads. Look, there's a trail here. I think we need to see where it goes. Let's just check it out real quick. Grab your gear and come on."

Julie returned to the small house and picked up her backpack of supplies. She watched Mo shrug into her backpack, then they set off. While Julie agreed and willingly followed Mo along the worn trail, she despised the thought of another hike, but it was better than going after that piece of crap Honda.

After 30 minutes of walking the traiil, it seemed like it had been 3 hours. For Julie, there were far too many bugs.

"Frickin' A," she exclaimed for the umpteenth time as she swatted furiously at her shoulder. She despised mosquitos, they were the scum of the bug kingdom. Only she didn't feel the splat of mosquito; instead this bug skittered across her skin. And it was hairy. Good God it was an arachnid! In Julie's mind there was nothing worse than a spider. "Mo, there's a spider… holy crap!"

"Would you shush?" Mo demanded rather than asked as she turned to give Julie a grim stare down, but Julie's attention was on the spider. With arms frantically flailing about her, she floundered toward Mo and the two collided in an awkward muddle, then each jumped back instinctively.

"Oh My God, now it's on you!" screamed Julie**.**

"Where? Where!?" Now Mo was frantically flailing and Julie was in attack mode. Protect Mo at all costs, no matter the consequences, she thought. Actually, she just wanted the spider dead, so she smacked Mo across her upper arm, splattering spider guts underneath her hand and all over Mo's skin. Leaving a nice red welt in her wake. But, hey… the spider was dead. Mission accomplished. Julie wiped her hands on her pants satisfied.

Disgusted, and completely skeeved out, Mo scraped the remains of the innocent and harmless spider off her skin while eyeing her friend and cohort with a death stare.

"I got it," Julie quipped, showing a proud smile in the wake of Mo's unspoken threat.

Mo sucked air between her teeth, "Not exactly-but you will, you will." Raising her hand that held the remains of the spider, Mo stalked over to Julie and smeared the mess down the back of Julie's shirt.

"There. Now you really do have it." Mo turned and began walking, as Julie began to screech. Hearing a thrashing sound, Mo turned in time to see Julie peeling off her t-shirt, leaving her only a tank top to maintain modesty.

Satisfied with her retribution, Mo turned back to the trail. Within minutes, both women were again engrossed in paying attention to the rugged terrain, and doing what they could to reclaim a bit of valor as they resumed their trek down the stream's companion trail.

After an hour of hiking and on the verge of giving up and turning around, Mo noticed a structure of sorts slightly ahead, along an area where the trail seemed to open up. Mo and Julie crouched down and crept ahead staying within the cover of the brush. They paused to survey the area. It was more than a shack; perhaps it could be loosely termed as a shop, though it was far from business-like. It was sheltered by trees, and sat in shadows even in the bright sunlight. The clearing around the trees made it seem like an eerie island surrounded by flat land. The two silently surveyed the shop and concluded no one occupied it. Mo drew her weapon, and Julie gripped her shotgun tightly, ready to raise it to shoot.

Figuring it was safe, Mo stepped closer to the shack, followed by Julie. Mo peered into a dark window, but could see nothing. She walked carefully and silently to the door. Julie assumed a hunter's stance and aimed the shotgun at the door, then nodded to Mo to go in first while she covered her entry. Slowly Mo turned the door handle, cracking the door slightly. They were both assaulted by the worst odor known to mankind. Julie strategically took a step back, mouthing to Mo, "I got your back."

Gritting her teeth and cocking her jaw, Mo took a small glance towards the heavens then stepped into the little shack. Mo prayed that she wouldn't pass out as she looked about the room. The smell was hideous. It was worse than the dead worms that Tate had left in her tackle box for the season. This was more like fermented worm smell mixed with aftertones of soured flesh. She coped by keeping her breath to the bare minimum that was required to sustain life.

Mo quickly concluded that the house was obviously unoccupied because no mortal man could possibly suffer living in such foul conditions. The smell was a living spirit trying to kill her. Mo reached beside the door to flick the light switch. Nothing. Mo delved into the side pocket of the backpack and retrieved her flashlight, switched it on, and stepped further into the tiny, smelly room. Directly in front of her was a small kitchen-type table. The focused beam of light revealed a row of about twenty glass jars. One appeared to contain eyeballs. Mo leaned over for a better look to determine if they were real or fake.

"Well, what's in there?" Julie yelled. Mo considered responding, but didn't want to allow the toxic fumes into her mouth, so she kept quiet. Unable to reach a decision about the eyeballs, she straightened and turned to her right. 

Something furry touched her right shoulder. Whirling around, she aimed the flashlight and illuminated a large angry animal, with long, ragged black claws poised to strike. It was practically on top of her, with mouth agape, teeth bared, and inches away from biting into her tender neck. Mo screamed, easily reaching the high F of her soprano's scale. Reacting in panic, she swung at the creature, using her flashlight as a club, and scrambled away toward the kitchen area. Blinded without her flashlight, she couldn't see where she was going and stumbled. She tried to catch her balance but failed; she hit the edge of a camper's stove, and jarred something metallic, launching it into the air.

She had just enough time to notice a small pot that had only moments before been innocently sitting on the campers stove. For a fleeting second, she floated in the air along with the pot, her legs flailing in one direction and her arms another. "Help me, please," she prayed quickly, hoping that her entreaty would magically cause the stupid pot to be empty before they both crashed to the floor. The pot somersaulted in the air and flipped upside down in a manner that could have won a perfect ten at the Olympics. Capping off Mo's humiliation, she landed first in a rough sitting position, surprising a loud scream from her throat, and the pot landed directly on the top of her head like a hat, spilling the contents down her hair and onto her face. Panic and the burn of toxic air in her throat disoriented Mo, and she sat in a daze.

Julie, having heard all of Mo's commotion, jumped at the piercing sound of her scream. She moved quickly to enter the shack and walked face first into a humongous spiderweb. Were woods full of these damn things? she wondered. The arachnid she had previously encountered was small potatoes compared to this goddamn thing, which was like a small insect universe and Julie's face was now the Enterprise, having boldly gone where it shouldn't have. Running in circles she tugged, spit, and swore while trying to remove the web as she waved her shotgun in front of her. Part of Julie was worried at the silence from Mo, but at least with the shotgun at hand she felt like she was helping her friend in someway. She meant well and all, but dammit, there was stuff on her face. Mo would have to persevere on her own for now.

Finally, Julie gained a shred of composure, relaxed a little and spat out the spiderweb remnants. She reached the door of the shack and blindly crashed over the threshold ready to obliterate the threat from inside. "Freeze!" Gagging on the smell, she held a hand in front of her nose and pointed her shotgun with the other. The only illumination came from Mo's flashlight that was laying dimly on the floor. Cursing at the darkness, she took a step forward and promptly tripped over the downed Mo. She fell chest first into the kitchen table, sending the jars to the floor, which promptly shattered. She landed on the floor beside Mo, winded.

After heaving air like a landed fish, Julie looked at the area around her. Seeing the flashlight, she crawled over and picked it up, shining its beam across the wreckage. "Oh my God!" Julie exclaimed when she took stock of the contents of the smashed jars that had rolled across the room. "There's an eyeball on my foot. Gross!"

She kicked her foot and the eyeball landed on Mo's neck, then slid a gooey pathway down her cleavage. Distracted by the sight of the eyeball's oozing path in the beam illuminated by the flashlight, the need to determine Mo's safety slipped from Julie's mind. Dimly, in the recesses of her mind, she knew she should show some sign of concern for Mo, however she was mesmerized by the acrobatic eyeball. Really, eyeballs were just too much. It was only when she heard the loud disgusted sigh of her friend that she remembered to show some sympathy, but it was too late.

"Don't worry about me," said Mo in a deadpan voice as she picked up the eyeball from between her breasts. "I'm fine." Mo hurled the eyeball in Julie's direction then returned to her dazed silence.

The eyeball came to a stop next to a leg on the kitchen table. Julie followed it's path with the flashlight, spying a stuffed bobcat on the floor, then gulping as the beam shone on a dead mouse. Now she knew what was causing the terrible stench.

Julie knew that, in fact, Mo was not fine. Julie wanted to tell her that not only she not fine, but that a dead mouse was mere inches away, but after many years of working with Mo, she thought twice about it. Julie rose to her feet and went to open the windows so a cross breeze could remove the odor. From the light of the window, a gray metallic box caught her eye. Moving to it, she opened the breaker box, flipped the switch, and shed some light on their newest 'situation'.

She paused and surveyed her friend. Mo was still sprawled on the floor. Her legs were at odd angles and on the top of her head sat a crooked saucepan. It's pale, gelatinous contents oozed down her face.

"You got a little something," Julie waved her hand covering her entire face, "right here."

One hand lifted, the middle finger raised. "Obviously." Disdain was Mo's specialty.

"Temper, temper," laughed Julie. "No need to be bitchy just because you made a complete mess of yourself." Looking down at her friend's dripping, dejected face, Julie just couldn't help herself. She had to say it- she shouldn't- but she was going to anyway. It would be the icing on Mo's cake. "Where's Agent Mulder when you need him? I think he should see this. Oh wait," Julie whipped her cell phone out of her pocket and snapped a quick picture, "he still can."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. You need me too much to hate me." Julie reached down, took her friend's gooey hand, and pulled her to a standing position. Even though they fought like cats and dogs, there was always a mutual respect between them. Even when Julie was threatening her with blackmail pictures, Mo wouldn't have anyone else watching her back but Julie. And that's how it was between them. They pushed, they pulled, they shouted and fought-but it was all out of love. "Besides, you know I only tease you because I love you."

Mo wanted to believe it was all out of love, but she began having second thoughts as Julie's face expressed horror and then she burst into a fit of laughter. Now she wanted to punch her.

"I find nothing funny about this." Mo ran her hand through her hair. When she looked at what was covering her entire head, she almost passed out. "Oh good God. What the hell is this, Julie?!"

By this point Julie was beside herself with laughter. "Dude...I don't know. But I know what it looks like and it looks like…"

"Say it and I will shoot you, I shit you not," promised Mo.

"Why would anyone have a pot of their...essence...for lack of better words, stored in a cabin for months at a time?"

Mo panicked and looked around her for a towel of some sort to wash the goo off her face. When she couldn't find one, she picked up the stuffed bobcat that had scared her into this mess, and used it to rub at the mess. She succeeded in smearing some of it into her mouth.

"Not months...oh God, not months, Julie...Its still warm."

"Ewww."

Mo felt a Hulk sized anger fit coming on. She snatched up the small pot, scooped up the remnants of the goo, and flung it at Julie's face.

"There, see how you like it!"

Julie raised her eyebrows, took a deep breath then stopped mid scream with a quizzical look upon her face. To Mo's disgust Julie flicked her tongue against the outside of her cheek, lopping up some of the ooze.

"Wait...this doesn't taste like salty swiss cheese." Mo lost the last remaining shred of respect for her friend when she took a second lick, "This tastes like Tapioca pudding."

Mo breathed a sigh of relief. "At least I don't have to get tested for having close, personal contact with tapioca."


	5. Chapter 5

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 5

The fishing camp was producing better results.

"Reel it in!" said Tate urgently," as Alex gasped and grabbed the fishing pole.

Alex jumped to her feet and began cranking the reel handle. What felt like a 40 pound bass was pulling hard against the line. She coaxed the fish in a few feet, but the fish ultimately disagreed and raced back out into the lake dragging several feet off the reel.

"Keep the line tight," coached Tate. "Don't give it any slack. You give it slack, it will jump off the hook. Start reeling again as soon as he settles down."

After a mighty struggle between woman and fish, the bass finally was pulled to the surface. Tate leaned over the water, net in hand, to scoop it up.

Alex stared at the frantically flopping fish. "That sure seemed a lot bigger when I was trying to get it to shore," she said with disappointment evident in her voice and posture.

Tate bit back a grin as she looked at the small fish. "I think we may want to release this one back to the water."

Alex smiled, "I guess I better keep trying or there is no fish for dinner tonight." She waited while Tate deftly unhooked the fish and tossed it back into the lake. Alex then looked at the hook, devoid of any bait. "Uh, Tate…"

Tate took the hint, reached into the worm bucket, and threaded a nightcrawler onto Alex's hook. When Alexis awkwardly began to cast the line, Tate said, "Wait. That's not going to work."

Alex looked over in surprise. "Why not?"

Tate moved behind Alex, shifted the bail arm to set the line for casting and poised her thumb over Alex's to secure the line for casting. Her left hand covered Alex's over the shaft of the fishing pole. Alex settled back against Tate and tried to relax as Tate guided her in casting the line.

Just then, Alex's cell phone rang.

"Ignore it. You let the line go, the reel will unravel and we'll have a mess on our hands." Alex took Tate's advice and resisted, enjoying the few brief moments of practicing the cast before the phone rang again.

"I'm sure it's not important," said Tate.

Alex sighed, flipped over the bail arm and then slipped free of the embrace. Holding the incoming call window so Tate could read it, Alex said, "I can't! It's Mo! Someone could be shooting at them again!" Swearing, Alex answered the call, pushing the speaker button so Tate could hear, too.

"Are you alright, Mo? What's wrong?" demanded Alexis.

"We're hungry. I've been smelling tapioca and I need something to eat. We packed food, but we can't cook it here. Evidently there isn't any propane left in the tank. Some idiot used it all making tapioca pudding." Tate rolled her eyes at this and wound the line back in. She had a feeling that their interlude at the lake was over.

"Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do about an empty propane tank?"

"I'd make sandwiches, but Julie didn't pack any Miracle Whip or Mustard. I just can't eat a sandwich without condiments."

Tate started chuckling. Alex scowled. "I am not your personal servant, you know. I'm a well-paid advertising executive. I'm … I'm researching fishing products for a client."

Alex heard a scuffle as the two women fought over the phone, then Julie said, "Move your ass, Alex. You're researching Tate, not fishing products. We're starving! I'm going to eat Mo, if food doesn't get here soon. Er...you know what I mean," she said weakly as Tate broke into a full-bodied laugh.

"Scully, I need you to do an autopsy," said Mulder, with a hint of excitement.

Scully looked at the dead body. "I am _not _doing an autopsy on that. It looks like road kill, and it smells like road kill, too."

Mulder's mouth dropped open. "Road kill? I think not." He looked aghast at the idea that Scully would consider a prime piece of evidence nothing but roadkill. "I propose that whatever this animal used to be, it was skinned in order to preserve a pelt for our suspect."

Scully made a familiar face, one that she wore when she debunked one of his ideas. "First of all Mulder, I am a doctor. Not a veterinarian. I do _not_ do post-mortem examinations of animals. If you want one done, let your fingers do the walking and look up a vet for that." She stabbed her finger towards the animal. "Second of all, _that _animal looks like it has been dead for days. Scavengers have likely torn away the pelt so they could get to the meat. For the last time, there is no such thing as a skin-walker!"

She turned toward the rental car, then whirled back around to glare at Mulder. "And I am _not_ adding a vet charge to our itemized list of expenses!" With that, she climbed into the driver's seat, silently daring Mulder to make her move.

Mulder walked over to the car, talking to Scully through the glass of the window. "Scully, come on...co-operate with me. You know I'm right about these things."

Scully rolled her eyes, then jerked her thumb in the vicinity of the passenger seat. "Get in, Mulder. Or you are walking to town."

Mulder tried his trademark boyishly charming grin. "Scully…" then broke off when Scully turned the ignition key. "Ok, ok. I'll get in."

He walked around the front of the car, just in case Scully decided to leave without him, then climbed in. Scully slammed her foot onto the gas pedal, and Mulder's head whipped back against the headrest. "What's the hurry?" he asked.

"We are now late because you had to stop to stare at a rotting animal. We have an appointment with a potential eyewitness, remember? This is the real detecting part of being a special agent. Following legitimate clues."

"Remind me again who we're are going to see?"

Scully gestured towards a file on the seat. "The report is there, Mulder. Get it out and refresh both of our memories."

Mulder pulled out the requested paper and began to scan it. "Brian King. Age 21. Crushing on one Ellen Carter, who was murdered after visiting The Crazy Parrot. He saw her leaving the bar on the night she died with a man in a dark jacket, but didn't see anything else. Scully, these details are a little vague."

Scully smiled. "Mulder, if you were 21 years old, and a man is making moves on the woman you were crushing on, you would be watching a little more closely than that, don't you think? So what has Brian King _not _said about that night?"

Mulder thought for a moment. "Scully, if I was 21, I'd have been following the guy's every move so I could put sugar in his gas tank. Brian King definitely knows something."

They drove in silence, then pulled up to a typical college apartment complex. It was a squat, square building with a flat roof and aluminum railings. The agents paused to observe the unit where the witness lived. A bicycle was propped beside the door, a cheap grill standing unevenly beside it. A Seattle Seahawks blanket covered the single window. A box of empty beer bottles and taco wrappers waited to be carried to the dumpster. "Look Scully, the 12th man lives here," said Mulder.

Scully looked confused. "What?"

"Never mind. Let's knock on the door." Mulder waved his hand towards the door. "After you, madam."

Scully patted the holster under her jacket and set off toward the front door, dodging a football laying on the ground. She knocked authoritatively, and waited for a response. She felt Mulder move up behind her on the cramped entry area. After hearing no answer, she knocked again, and called out, "Brian! Brian, answer the door please!."

Mulder noticed the Seahawks blanket twitch. "He's here," he whispered to Scully.

"Brian, we need to talk with you. Please open the door," called Scully again.

Slowly the door opened a crack, showing a brown eye and a sliver of face. "I'll go to class on Monday. I know I'm on probation but I had a good reason for missing."

Mulder eased forward and put the toe of his shoe into the small opening between the door and the doorframe. "That's good to know, Brian, but we aren't with the university. We are with the F.B.I. Now please open the door."

The sliver of face withdrew from the opening, and the agents could hear quiet cursing. Then, the door opened fully and a good-looking young man stood to the side of the doorway. "He's cute," murmured Scully to Mulder, then stepped into a messy living room. Dirty paper plates, beer bottles, soda cans, and papers that were presumably classwork littered every surface.

She pulled out her I.D. "I'm special agent Dana Scully, and this is my partner, Agent Mulder. We would like to ask you a few questions about the last time you saw Ellen Carter."

The young man teared up, and rubbed his hand across his lightly stubbled face. "I still can't believe she's gone. I haven't been able to eat or sleep since she was killed. I can't even begin to think about going to class, but I know I have to. I just..."

Scully said, "Let's sit down together. Any information you could give us would help us catch the person who killed her." She moved a pile of textbooks and papers from a chair and sat down. Mulder decided to lean against the wall since the seating was covered with remains of things he wasn't sure would come off of his trousers.

Brian sat across from Scully on a sofa hearkening back to the 1970s, crushing some papers as he sat. "I told the police what I saw. I don't really have anything more to say."

Scully spoke in a sympathetic voice. "Brian, losing someone you care about, especially in a brutal way, is often traumatizing. We want to ask you questions just in case you have something in your memory that you aren't aware of."

He sat quietly for a moment, dabbing at his eyes. "Ok. Yes, ask me whatever."

Scully looked at Mulder, shaking her head slightly. This was Mulder's signal to let her handle the questioning for now. "Brian, tell us what happened after you arrived at The Crazy Parrot."

"Nothing really. I went in and ordered a Bud. I sat at the bar with it."

"Were you on your own?"

"Yes. I went...well, I went really just to see if Ellen was going to be there." He looked around for a tissue, then resorted to a napkin left on the coffee table. He wiped his eyes.

"We know that she did indeed go to the bar. Was she there when you arrived, or did she come later?"

"She was already there. Some older guy was coming on to her. So I left."

Scully let silence fall. Brian's statement was unbelievable.

Mulder took up the questioning. "Brian, did you see something that your eyes couldn't believe?" 

Brian gave a harsh laugh. "Yeah, if you call a priest coming on to a college girl 'unbelievable'."

Scully leaned forward, listening intently. "Priest? The man with Ellen was a priest? Why do you say that?" asked Scully.

"Because he was wearing that white thing around the collar of his shirt, like priests do," answered Brian.

Again, silence fell. Then Mulder said, "Brian, did you see Ellen after she left with the priest?"

There was no response. Mulder tried again, "Brian, Ellen's family needs you to tell us everything you know. Did you see Ellen after she left the bar?"

Brian began to tremble. He looked down, his face drawn and pale. Quietly he said, "I did, but I think I've gone crazy. You can't depend on anything I saw."

Scully reached over and covered his shaking hand with her own. "Brian, what did you see?"

A tear trickled down, then another. "I followed them to Ellen's apartment. I just… I had to see for myself if Ellen was really going to sleep with the guy." He looked at Mulder. "You know how it is. It's a shot to the gut, but you just have to know." Mulder nodded.

"Her apartment is on the ground floor, and the mini-blinds are broken from when she threw a shoe at the window, so there's a little crack to see in. So I went to her bedroom window and looked in that crack. Not to be a pervert or anything. I just had to know."

Brian stopped talking. He swallowed as if he were nauseous. "When I looked in the window, I saw Ellen naked on the bed. A big cat was on top of her, and he had torn out her throat. The cat, was licking blood off of his front paw. I couldn't look away. I couldn't even yell. I was frozen, while a damn monster cat was licking Ellen's blood," he said bitterly.

He swallowed again, then reached down to grab his beer bottle from the end table, swigging a drink and setting the bottle back in its spot. "But that wasn't the crazy part. When I knew I had gone insane is when the cat laid on the bed and scooted so that Ellen was on top of him, and then there were two Ellen's on the bed… only one was dead and one was alive. Then the alive Ellen got up and put on some of Ellen's clothes and walked out of the bedroom."

Brian started sobbing, with his hands up to his face as he rocked back and forth on the sofa. "The one time that I needed to keep myself together, and I failed. I couldn't help her, now I've gone crazy."

Mulder walked over and put his hand on Brian's shoulder. "Brian, look at me."

Brian looked up at Mulder's request. "Brian, you've told us more than you realize. You are not insane, and this account is just what we needed to hear for us to be able to help."

"Seriously?" asked Brian.

"Yes, seriously." said Mulder.

After asking if they could call a friend to be with him, which Brian declined, the agents walked back to the car. Mulder got into the driver's seat, and Scully climbed in on the passenger side. She sat without talking for a moment, then, without looking at Mulder, said, "I suppose he could have been exposed to the same hallucinogenic as Julie Steiger."

"Yes, that's one supposition," said Mulder.

"Mulder, this _is _crazy. That boy is crazy. There are no such things as shape-shifters," proclaimed Scully. Then she paused. "But I've seen a shape-shifter, been thrown against a wall by a shape-shifter who looked just like you. Is that what is at work here?"

"Actually Scully, I don't think this is alien shape-shifters at work. Like I said earlier, I think this is the work of a skin-walker. That is something else entirely," said Mulder.

"Some days, I don't know why I come in to work," said Scully.

"That's an easy answer," said Mulder. "You get to see me." Whistling, he started the car and headed back to their motel.


	6. Chapter 6

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 6

The pickup truck pulled up to the small building from where Julie and Mo had called, with a dusty flourish. Tate got out of the cab, with Alex not far behind.

"Where did you learn to drive like that?" asked Alexis.

"That? I took a defensive driving course and they taught us to do a 180 turn. I call it a Starsky and Hutch. All this dirt road, I figured it was a good time to try it again. Impressed?"

"Oh yes," said Alex. "But it is a little hard on the tire tread. And your exterior is a mess. I could wash it for you. I love to clean."

"You do? I'd love for someone to wash the truck with me. This sounds like a match made in heaven. I mean...uh...the start of a beautiful friendship," said Tate.

Alex reached into the bed of the truck for the picnic basket. "Match made in heaven sounds better to me," she said offhandedly and walked into the building. "Oh My," she said, coming to a standstill.

Tate came to a stop beside her. "Holy shit!" she said. "What happened in here?"

The glow from a lamp illuminated the remnants of a whitish goo spilled across the floor with papery bits stuck here and there. A chair was tipped over and had the same white goo on it too. A small pot stood exactly in the center of the mayhem. Mo had a roll of paper towels and a bucket of water, and was dabbing at the mess with two fingers. A stiff white coating covered her hair and face, as well as part of her body. Julie stood over Mo, having nagged her to stop trying to clean a floor that was hopelessly filthy, but to no avail. Something black and viscous was on the back of Julie's hair.

Mo looked up. "Did you bring food?" she said dispiritedly.

Alex held up the picnic basket. "Yes, but you have to clean your room first, before you get to eat."

"Ha ha, very funny. Let me clean my hands. I have got to eat. Lunch should have been hours ago," said Mo.

Meanwhile, Tate had moved beside Julie. "Julie...what is in your hair? And where is your t-shirt?"

Julie pulled at the tank top that was clinging to her. "Mo wiped a spider on me so I took it off. What do you mean, what's in my hair? She pulled a strand from the front and eyed it in a cross-eyed manner.

"Not there, silly. Here, turn around," said Tate.

Julie turned around, presenting her back to Tate. She felt fingers at her hair, then heard Tate gasp. "What? What is it?"

"Hold still," said Tate. "Ugh. Mo, give me those paper towels and bring me the water."

Mo pushed herself off the floor and brought the cleaning supplies to Tate. "What is it?" She peered at Julie's hair, then backed away. "Julie, I didn't do that on purpose. Just stay calm and remember that I. Did. Not. Do. That. On. Purpose." She spoke each word distinctly.

Tate poured water onto the back of Julie's head then rubbed it with a paper towel. "Uh, this is pretty dried. You may need to dunk your head in the water."

Julie yelped. "What is it? Whatever it is, you can't just leave it."

"I don't think you want to know."

"Yes, I do! It's my head! What is it?" Julie was panicking.

"I'd say its part of a spider carcass." Tate got no further with an explanation because Julie screamed and lunged at Mo, who took off running.

"I said I didn't do it on purpose!" yelled Mo as she ran out of the cabin to escape Julie's deranged attack.

"You put a spider in my hair!: Fingers outstretched like daggers, Julie chased Mo down the path toward the small rushing stream.

"But it was an accident!" protested Mo. She reached the stream and plunged into it, gasping at the chill. Turning to ward off Julie, she instead saw Julie's feet slip out from under her and Julie disappear under the cold water. Just then, a gentle afternoon rain shower began. "Oh just great," Mo said. "I am never, ever going to hear the end of this." She cautiously moved to Julie, who was now sitting up and wailing.

"Give me your hand and I'll help you stand," said Mo. She glared at the bank of the stream, where a decidedly unhelpful Tate and Alex were holding their sides, wheezing from laughter. "You two are not helping matters!"

"At least the spider should be out of your hair now," said Tate.

Julie began crying. "Mo, is the spider gone?"

Mo gingerly moved the hair at the nape of Julie's neck. "Maybe after we get a paper towel. Oof!" Next thing she knew, she too was on her butt in the stream. Julie had pushed her. "What did you that for?"

"You deserved it. Now we're even. Get up and get me a paper towel!"

Mo stood, then held out a hand to Julie. Both women made their way to the bank of the stream, wet clothes clinging to them.

Tate looked at Alex. "How do you feel about wet t-shirts while washing trucks?"

Alex winked. "I feel very good about wet t-shirts," and the two followed the amateur detectives back to the building. The rain ended as quickly as it began, but the ladies still had to wipe mud from their feet before entering.

Unseen, a man stood in a grove of trees, shotgun in hand. He blended so well that no one would spot him unless they knew he was there. As the last of the four women entered the building, he dropped to his belly and did an army crawl towards the structure, careless of the mud, never making a sound.

Inside, Alex asked, "What do you think this building is?" She held up a bowl full of eyeballs retrieved from the debris on the floor and blanched.

Julie said, "I think this is a taxidermy shop. It looks like someone mounts animals here, don't you think?"

Alex turned in a circle to peruse the interior, noticing for the first time the stuffed animals displayed on the walls. She grimaced. "I think you're right."

Mo was wiping at her wet hair with a dish towel. "At least my hair isn't stiff with tapioca pudding after falling into the stream."

Tate looked at the floor. "That's tapioca pudding? Oh thank goodness."

"Dirty mind, what did you think it was?" teased Julie.

"I know what it looks like, but couldn't believe any man had a whole pot full," retorted Tate.

Mo gave up on her hair. "I'm going to change. At least we packed clean clothes. I'll be back in a minute."

Julie plucked at her now see-through tank top. "I think I better change, too." The two went to the single bathroom to get into dry clothes.

Alex commenced to scrubbing on the floor, unable to walk away from the chaos. Tate half-heartedly thought about helping. After concluding that cleaning dried tapioca from a filthy floor in a hovel that she didn't own was not logical, she decided instead to take this opportunity to rest. She sat in the dusty recliner and tried to look like she was ruminating over something important. The two looked up minutes later when Mo passed through with the wet clothing. "I'm laying these outside to dry," she announced. Julie emerged from the bathroom and worked at brushing her hair.

Minutes later, Mo ran in. "Guys, I think you better see this."

Leading them outside, Mo led them to a window on the side of the building. She pointed to two prints in the dirt. "Someone has been watching us."

Alex shivered. "How do you know?"

"These prints are in mud, not dirt. Now who would watch us instead of coming in and demanding to know what we were doing in their building?"

The four stared at each other, alarmed.

Tate said, "I think it's time we go find your car and get out of here."

"No," said Julie. "The two of us came out to find a priest, and we're not leaving til we find him."

Tate looked at Julie. "Unless you are planning to get married right this minute, I think we should go back to town where it is safe."

Julie rolled her eyes. "No. You two go. We're going to continue our stake out."

Alex protested. "Julie, be sensible. You say you're looking for a priest, God only knows why. Um, no pun intended. But someone is stalking you and you've already been shot at. Go with us and come out here later when it's safer."

Heatedly, Julie said, "You're right, you don't know why. But we do have a reason and we're staying here. We have guns, so I really don't see how much safer it could be."

"Guns don't automatically ensure safety," said Tate in a soothing voice. "We're worried about you, and this situation is getting a little freaky. I don't want anything else to happen to you."

Julie softened. "Tate, we'll be ok. Really."

She gave Tate a quick hug and gently urged her to the truck. "You and Alex go on to town. We'll meet up with you later."

With misgivings, Tate and Alex walked to the truck and got in. Tate rolled down her window and looked at Mo. "I don't expect her to be be sensible about this...it's too personal. So that means you are going to have to watch out for her."

After obtaining a promise from Mo to do exactly that, Tate pushed the starter on her truck and it growled to life. The pair waved at Mo and Julie, then slowly drove away.

After watching them leave, Mo said, "Julie, that wasn't the only thing I found. But we really do need to stakeout this cabin and I was afraid they wouldn't leave if they thought we were in danger."

Julie gazed steadily at Mo. "Is the game afoot, Sherlock?"

Mo's lips quirked. "Still crushing on Benedict? But yes, the game is afoot. Come and look at this." Mo went back to the window, and said, "Notice that these are two boot prints. Now follow me." She took a wide step, such as a tall man might make. There, half hidden in the overgrowth, was another set of prints. "These are bare feet now."

"I'm supposed to be afraid of a barefoot man?"

"Keep watching." Mo took another giant step. "Now look," and she pointed.

The left foot was the same bare foot, but with long claws on the end where the toes were outlined. The right foot was a large pawprint.

Julie froze. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Now take another big step over here," said Mo.

Julie moved to her side. Sure enough, the next set were giant paw prints. "What do you think they belong to?" she asked.

"Who am I, Daniel Boone? How should I know? But it's definitely the same thing that stood at the window, watching us."

Julie held up a finger. "Here's what we do know: We know that the priest dropped a map that led here, even though we found it by accident." She held up a second finger, "And we know that there is a taxidermist shop here." Finger three went up. "We know we were under surveillance by someone unknown." Up went a fourth finger. "And, that unknown someone is a shapeshifter."

"A shapeshifter?" asked Mo incredulously.

Julie nodded her head. "I quote a genius: 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, _however improbable_, must be the truth."

"That's Sherlock Holmes, not a real person, you moron," said Mo.

"He's still a genius, and what he said applies here. We just saw the prints of someone changing shape. And better yet, a shapeshifter is the only logical explanation for what I saw with the priest!"

"A shapeshifter. And you call that logical? This is crazy," said Mo, and threw up her hands. "In fact, _You_ said it was crazy when Agent Mulder talked about shapeshifters and now you want me to believe it too?"

"So he's not so crazy after all," exclaimed Julie. "The real question is, how do we find someone who can change the way he looks?"

"You know who we have to talk to, right? Even though you won't like it?"

"No. No way," said Julie flatly.

Mo folded her arms across her chest and nodded emphatically. "We have to talk to talk to him, even if he is your ex boyfriend. He knows all the legends. That's what his grandma taught him from the time he was little." Mo looked at her watch. "Give me your phone."

"Why?"

Mo sighed. "Julie, I know you. I know his phone number is still in your address book. Now give me the phone. I can at least spare you in having to call him. That would look pitiful."

Handing over the phone, Julie said, "At least let's go back inside in case it starts raining again." She stomped inside and promptly turned her back to Mo, who had followed her inside. Julie listened as Mo made the phone call and asked Edgar Spotted Bear to meet them at the abandoned Honda.

"Why there," Julie asked.

"Might as well have someone there who can help me get the thing home. Kills two birds with one stone," explained Mo.

Julie pushed her hair back from her face. "I can't see him if I look like this. You're going to have to wait while I clean up."

Mo bit back a smile. "I'm glad you don't care what he thinks about you anymore."

"Bite me," said Julie, then opened her backpack and got to work at turning herself into someone who would make Edgar Spotted Bear regret not being a couple any longer. Recalling her dip into the creek, Mo decided she needed a little TLC for herself and made wise use of the time to get herself presentable.

Dusk was falling by the time they freshened up. Mo turned off the lights, gave one last look at the chaos they were leaving behind, and said a silent apology to the cabin owner, unless the cabin was owned by a killer, in which case she wouldn't bother to apologize.

Using the priest's map as a guide, they set off for the abandoned Honda. Fortunately, by using the map, the women had a short, two mile hike. They arrived just as Edgar Spotted Bear pulled up in his Ford F-150.

Unfolding his large frame from the cabin of the truck, Edgar slowly got out of the truck and feasted his eyes on Julie, looked at the bullet damage on the Honda, then turned his gaze to Mo. "Who did you piss off?" he asked.

Mo huffed. "Why do people keep saying that?"

"Why else would anyone shoot at you?" he quipped. Moving to the bed of his truck, he opened the built-in toolbox and removed a toolbox. He walked straight to Mo and placed his hand, palm up, in front of her. Confused, she slapped his palm in a 'high five'.

Edgar rolled his eyes. "Keys, Mo. I need your keys to the trunk so I can get out your spare tire.."

"Oh!" Slightly embarrassed, Mo dug in her backpack for the car keys and laid them on Edgar's palm. "Go get'em tiger," she said.

Julie had yet to say a word to Edgar. She simply crossed her arms and attempted to remain looking cool, confident and unconcerned. Edgar strode over to the trunk of the car and removed a jack and the spare tire. He got to work on loosening the lug nuts, then jacking up the car. His tshirt clung to his biceps in all the right places.

To keep attention from Julie, Mo asked, "Edgar, remember that story about skin-walkers that you told us? The one your grandmother told you?"

Not trusting the innocent query, Edgar cautiously said, "Yes," and kept working.

She was riveted by the Edgar's physique, but duty called. Mo said, "Will you tell me that legend again?"

While Edgar worked on changing the tire, he started the story. "Time was, Skinwalkers roamed this land, and they roamed it for centuries. The tribal chiefs did not want them because they practiced evil blood magic. Many past warrior chiefs from my tribe hunted these skinwalkers for not only did they threaten our communities, they also threatened our food sources, the animals upon which the tribe depended on for sustenance."

"How did the food source become threatened by the skinwalker?" Julie asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"The skinwalkers were power hungry. Between killing people for the blood magic and killing the animals that they used for shifting, the land was become sick. And when the land is sick, it cannot sustain the life that our Great Father planned for us."

Finished with the tire, Edgar stood up and stretched, muscles rippling as he lifted his arms high above his head. Julie looked on, overcome with lust. Mo looked at him, and thought of Agent Mulder.

Lowering his arms, he pulled his shirt down and leaned back against the car. He continued, "According to legend, there were many attempts at killing the skinwalker, but neither blade nor arrow seemed to have any effect. That was, until the night that the beast boldly entered the village without care of being seen. It strode in, hungry and prepared to kill… to feed. Many of the villagers cowered in their homes, intending to protect their children. A brave few remained resilient and were prepared to face the monster; they would do what it took to protect their family, even if it meant perishing by the fangs of the murderous beast. They yelled, attempting to intimidate, but the beast was unfazed. He was immortal and knew that nothing the braves did would threaten him.

"Then he spotted his prize: Running Doe, a female warrior. She stood next to a fire. The red flames reflected in her hair, and her eyes held the light of the embers. Her gaze met the monster's, and it was drawn to her, slinking slowly and deliberately in her direction. With the same level of calculation, she withdrew an arrow from the fire ring, the tip covered in cold white ash. She deliberately notched the arrow, raised her long bow, and drew back the taut string. The beast watched her steadily and licked its lips, almost appearing to smile. She steadied her feet and held her breath, arrow poised. The monster raised it's head as it inhaled her scent. Before it could lunge at her, young Running Doe released the arrow and let out a warrior's battle cry as the arrow sailed into its target. The white ash tipped arrow buried itself into the cat's proud neck, and it dropped dead instantly. His immortal nature was made mortal by the white ash. Running Doe became a great hero among our people by counting coup against the skinwalker.

"She saved the village from this monster. Time would show that more skinwalkers would attempt to stalk the villagers, but now, instead of living in fear, they knew how to fight it."

Mo and Julie silently processed the implication of Edgar's tale. They didn't have a bow and arrow to hunt for the mysterious priest. It was just a legend. But legends are stories passed down from generation to generation, and there existed the likelihood that this story was rooted in fact.

Mo stirred. "Edgar, thank you for the information and for the help with the tire."

"Glad to help," he said. Edgar turned to look at Julie, but she continued to give him the cold shoulder so he returned to his truck and drove off. Mo and Julie climbed back into the Honda and headed back to town. They needed to rest and come up with some sort of plan.


	7. Chapter 7

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 7

After interviewing Brian, the two agents returned to their hotel. Though they had separate rooms as per FBI policy, the two often shared down time together. Scully sat at the desk in the hotel room, and sipped from bottled water. Her laptop was sitting precisely centered in the workspace. Bored, she looked up from the computer screen. Mulder was sprawled on top of her bed, a Coke bottle on the nightstand, and his computer balanced precariously on his lap.

A fantasy long familiar to her rushed through her mind, involving a naked Mulder and lots of champagne. After indulging in in the fantasy for a short time, she clamped down on her lusty thoughts and cleared her throat. "Mulder, I've read about the skin-walkers, but those articles are hardly proof of what you think is happening here."

Mulder looked over at Scully. His mind jumped to his favorite fantasy, of Scully doing a slow strip-tease out of her business suit and climbing on top of him in nothing but her heels. He forced his mind away from that image before he did something he would later regret. "We aren't looking for proof, Scully. We're looking for help. Something to help us link together what is happening here."

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"I'm reading the crime reports again. There are three things I find in common: all were women, all had red hair, and all had something on them that had a leopard print."

"Really? I didn't see that last part," said Scully.

"Vic #1 had on a leopard print shirt. Vic #2 wore leopard print tights. Vic #3 had a leopard print wallet in her purse. Vic #4 had a scarf with leopard print. Vic #5 wore a blouse with a leopard print on it. Vic #6 wore a leopard print winter coat. And our last vic, #7, had on leopard print boots," said Mulder.

"I wonder what Julie Steiger was wearing when she met her priest?"

"I could call Morgan and ask if she knows," said Mulder with a smile.

Scully huffed. "Or, I could call Ms. Steiger and find out directly from her."

"That works too," said Mulder calmly.

Scully punched in the phone number and was soon in a conversation with Julie. "Thank you," Scully said, and ended the call.

"Well?" asked Mulder.

"She wore a leopard print shirt with a skirt. Looks like you found yourself a link, Mulder."

"That I did," said Mulder proudly.

Scully stood up and moved to her suitcase. Opening it, she rummaged around and then pulled out a blouse. "I thought so. Mulder, look."

He lifted his gaze from the crime reports. "What is that?"

"It's the leopard print shirt I wear with my black suit. Mulder, we have bait." Scully lifted the shirt in one hand and pointed to her own red hair with the other hand.

"Oh no. F.B.I agents are not bait. They are the investigators, the hunters. They are _not_ bait."

"Mulder, be reasonable. Let's do this tonight. I will go to The Crazy Parrot for dinner. You can hang out at the bar. We'll see what happens."

"Are you crazy? I'm not leaving you alone in a bar to be the bait for a killer. I've seen what happens when you get a few drinks in you."

Scully fisted one hand at her hip. "Do not go there, Mulder."

He met her glare with one of his own. "Well? Am I right? We are _partners,_" Mulder ground out between gritted teeth. " Partners take care of each other. I've got your back. I always have your back."

Scully walked up to Mulder and laid a soft hand on his jaw. "Mulder, you're right. You win. I will skip tonight."

Mulder eyed Scully suspiciously. She had given in much too easily. He decided to change tactics. "You know, Scully, you're right. Let me give Morgan a call and ask her to wear something sexy, and then we'll come to the bar and watch you."

"Sexy?" interrupted Scully. "Call Morgan, and ask her to wear something sexy?"

"Well sure. You want it to look like a legitimate date, right? We'll be at one table, you can be at another table. This way I can watch you work while I have fun." If she was going to to go to the bar to act as bait, at least this way he could co-ordinate what was happening.

Scully's lips tightened. She gave a short nod. "Sure. Fine, Mulder. Whatever. You go right ahead and call the singing detective. You just make sure you watch my back and not her chest."

Mulder grinned. "Scully, I can multi-task with the best. Don't you worry about me."

Later that night, Mulder sat with Morgan at a dimly lit table. A candle under glass cast a glow that added an air of romance. She was dressed for seduction, no doubt about it. A short black, low cut dress clung to her body. Every breath she took threatened to cause a wardrobe malfunction. Mulder tore his eyes away to scan the bar for Scully. Still a no show.

Mulder glanced at his watch. Where could she be? Then he jumped when Morgan leaned over to place a hand on his, cleavage dangerously exposed. "Mulder, you seem a little distracted. What's wrong?"

He looked over at the bar again, tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. Mulder pulled out his phone to send Scully a text, then put the phone away without sending it. Scully would kill him if he texted her while she was trying to make contact. But the contact was supposed to happen at the bar, dammit.

"Mulder, why do you keep looking at the bar?" asked Mo.

He sighed. "Morgan, I invited you here to act as a cover, so I could watch over Scully while she tried to bait the skin-walker." He looked at her with a beseeching gaze, trying to ignore the hurt looks in her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was a jerk thing to do, but you have to understand, Scully is my partner."

"Are you and Scully...involved? Isn't that what you asked me about Julie?"

"I did ask, yes. And no, Scully...well...it's complicated." Mo mentally acknowledged that this date was going no where, because Mulder was deeply involved with his partner, even if he would not admit it.

"Love usually is, Mulder. Love is almost always complicated."

"Love? No, we're partners. And I'm worried that my _partner _isn't here," and Mulder turned to scan the bar again.

Scully was fifteen minutes late. She was never late. Something must be wrong. "Morgan, I have to leave. I need to find Scully."

He rose, reached into his wallet and threw a twenty on the table. "I'm sorry to run out on you like this. Maybe we can meet up later."

Without waiting for a reply, he rushed out of the bar. Mo sat for a minute, then pulled out her own cell phone. Hitting 1 on the speed dial, she waited until Julie picked up. "You aren't going to believe this one. Mulder just abandoned me at The Crazy Parrot."

"That fink. What are you wearing? Did you wear the uh… " asked Julie.

"The slut dress? Yes. I borrowed it from you, remember?"

"It's not a slut dress, it's a sexy dress. There's a difference," said Julie.

"Not when I'm three inches taller than you. Its like a micro dress on me."

"Oh it is not. You rocked that dress."

"I did," said Mo mournfully. "And it was wasted. Oh he noticed 'the girls', but he never made a move. He is in love with his partner, even though he won't admit it, and he left to find her because she was supposed to be at the bar, and I was his cover even though he didn't have the decency to explain that ahead of time," ranted Mo.

"Are you still at The Crazy Parrot?" Julie asked.

"Yes. I guess I should go home now."

"No, stay there. I'm getting ready to walk in."

Mo stayed at the table, then gave a wave when Julie walked in, wearing a leopard print dress that matched Mo's shoes. "Really? You had match what I'm wearing?" she complained to Julie.

Julie reached over and gave Mo a big hug. "It's ok, sweetie. You can whine all you want to since you got dumped here at the bar."

Mo teared up a little. "You're right. I got dumped."

Julie handed her a small tissue. "I was teasing. No tears. He isn't worth it." She smoothed away a trace of mascara from under Mo's eye.

Mo sat quietly for a bit. Julie could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Julie," said Mo. "I think we should follow Mulder."

Julie patted Mo's hand. "Babe, that's a bad idea. It will just heap more hurt on you and tonight you're vulnerable."

Mo pulled her hand away and stood up. "Not like that, silly. If I was part of a stake-out here at The Crazy Parrot, then that means Mulder is still working the case. If we follow him, we might get answers of our own."

Julie jumped to her feet and grabbed her purse. "Now that is a great idea. Lead the way."

As they neared the door, in walked Tate and Alex. "Hey there, intrepid detectives! You two look hot tonight. What's up? Out on the prowl?" said Tate.

Julie grabbed Tate's arm and Mo grabbed Alex's arm. "You're coming with us," said Julie. "There's safety in numbers, and I'm not sure how this is going to turn out."

"Cool," said Alex. "I'm game. Now I get to be part of the 'situation' instead of the rescuer."

Tate just shrugged and kept pace with Julie, which wasn't hard since Julie was wearing 4 inch pumps. Tate asked, "Do you mind if I ask where we are going?"

"We're going to initiate surveillance on a rat bastard and the love of his life," said Mo.

"We're what?" asked Alex.

Julie laughed. "We are going to spy on the F.B.I. agents. The guy just left Mo at the bar, I mean, totally left her high and dry, so we're going to see what he's doing now."

"No way! Mo, you got dumped? In that dress?" exclaimed Tate.

"Tell the world, why don't you," muttered Mo. I am going to cut the next person who says I got dumped, she decided.

"So now you're going to stalk him?" Alex looked at Mo. "Are you doing this because you're angry, or because you're curious. Anger will get you to do something stupid. Curiosity will get you to do something really stupid. I just want to know what I'm getting myself into by coming with you."

"Very funny. Everyone is a comedian. I'm curious. And I am not going to do anything stupid. Especially dressed like this."

Alex looked at Mo's dress. "I don't know. Mug shots in that dress would certainly liven up a cop's night."

Mo turned loose of Alex's arm. "Are you going to keep this up all night? At least Julie gave me a little sympathy!"

Tate took Alex's arm then looked directly into Mo's eyes, "If she gives you sympathy, you'll cry. There's no crying tonight. Don't cry; be mature - go spy on him and see if you can solve this case first."

Mo looked at Tate, then Alex. "I'll be so mature that it's sickening," she promised.

The four women walked down the street, then Julie made a shushing motion and moved against the wall of a brick building housing a small yarn shop. She tried to tiptoe, then realized that wasn't really possible in her heels. She kicked them off and grimaced as her feet met the dirty cement. Julie crept forward, with the three women following behind. There, just up the block, was a tall, lanky man boosting himself through a window of a two-story house.

"Mo. Look, is that Mulder?" whispered Julie.

Mo went forward, hugging the building as well. "Where?'

"There!" Julie whispered, and pointed at the dark, two story building on the opposite side of the street.

"I don't see anything," Mo said.

Alex and Tate gathered closer. "What? What do you see?" asked Alex.

Julie looked carefully around the area, then hustled across the street to the now closed window. The three friends followed closely behind. Julie reached up but couldn't quite touch the window sill. "Mulder went in here," she said.

"Are you sure?" asked Mo.

"Yes! 100% positive," said Julie.

"Breaking and entering," said Alex. "Definitely a 'situation'. I wonder who I can call to bail us out of jail?"

Ignoring her, Tate cupped her hands together. "Julie, you're barefoot. Let me give you a boost."

Julie placed her foot into Tate's hands, who hoisted her up and staggered as she lifted Julie. "Holy cow, what did you have for dinner tonight?"

"I'm tempted to kick you for that, Tate. Now stand still while I get this window open."

"Just... hurry up... woman," grunted Tate.

With minimal noise, the window slid open and Julie heaved herself into the gaping hole. All the friends could see was a flash of bare thighs, dirty feet, and a slight glimpse of thong as Julie fell through. After a quiet thud and a curse, Julie's head appeared. She reached out with a slim arm and said, "Come on! I'll pull you up!"

"How about we just use this?" asked Alex. They all turned to see her lugging over a plastic garbage can. Alex turned it upside down next to the window. "I think we can use this as a stepstool and get into the window easier than what Julie just did."

Giggling, one by one the three women clambered on top of the garbage can and climbed through the window. While the aroma from the trashcan wasn't great, the entrance to the house was much more graceful.

Once inside, Tate said, "Now what?"

"Now we have to be really quiet and search for Mulder," said Mo. "Lose the heels, ladies." She eyed Tate's practical footwear, and said, "Ok Tate, you can leave those things on. You seriously went on a date in those?"

"Hey, they're more comfortable than those torture devices you were wearing," said Tate.

"If it's comfortable, it's not sexy."

"And your point is?"

"Hush!" said Alex. "In case it's escaped you, we just broke into a house! If we get caught, your shoes aren't going to make it into your mug shot because I will have beat them over your head!"

That remark sobered everyone. Mo took a deep breath, adjusted the gaping vee of her neckline, and took stock of their location. The room they were in appeared to be a mud room of some sort. She lifted her dress, easing it up from the bottom.

"What are you doing?" hissed Julie.

"I always carry protection," said Mo, and pulled a knife out of a sheath strapped to her slim thigh.

Tate groaned, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, forgot about the quiet rule. Mo, do you ever make a _good _joke?"

"That was good!" Then poking her head cautiously out the doorway, Mo motioned for the trio to follow as she stepped into the hall.

A beam of light lit up the hallway revealing a staircase just ahead. Mo, Tate, and Julie whipped around to look at Alex. "Turn that off!" demanded Julie.

Alex turned off the flashlight. "Sorry, I just thought it would help if we could actually see where we are going."

Tate said, "Where did you find a flashlight?"

"Girl Scouts 101...Be prepared. I carry it on my keyring."

"Well, leave it off!" said Julie heatedly. "We're trying to not be noticed."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh," said Alex.

A sound of footsteps sounded from the floor above. Mo held up a hand to stop their movement. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.

Listening intently, the footsteps could be heard moving toward the staircase. "Hide!" hissed Julie.

They looked around frantically and spotted a closet under the stairway. Reaching it was their only hope of escaping detection.

Rushing to the closet, Mo opened the door. "Hurry!" she said, and she motioned Tate, then Alex, followed by Julie into the small area. Mo pushed her way in last and closed the door behind her. "Do _not _use that flashlight," she demanded of Alex.

"Well, this is cozy," Alex complained in a whisper once the door was shut. She barely had room to turn and when she did she was face to face with Tate.

"It certainly is," Tate replied while prying her arm out from between Alex and the back of the closet. "I think my wrist is crushed."

Julie whispered, "Can you two move back a little? I can't move."

Alex tried to take Tate's wrist into her own hand for examination, but the closet was so small there wasn't enough room to allow it. She had to wiggle and shimmy just to get her hand away from her sides, and realized she was bumping and grinding against Tate in doing so. What was an accident became quite deliberate as she took advantage of the close quarters to get a reaction from Tate.

Tate backed into the closet until she felt the sloping ceiling behind her and pulled Alex by the hand with her, copping a few cheap feels as she moved in the dark. When her head and back touched the top of the closet, she felt with her feet to determine if space was available further back. She cupped Alex's head and pulled it to her mouth. "Sit down here and scoot back. I think we can give them a little more room, and be better hidden," she whispered almost soundlessly. As exciting as exhibitionism could be, she had no desire to get arrested for breaking and entering, nor was she inclined to be stabbed with Mo's knife, so she decided that she'd save nakedness for later that evening.

Alex moved to slide back into the alcove, then nudged Jule. "You should have some extra room now."

Julie moved back a little, then dropped to her knees to look out the keyhole of the closet. All she could see was darkness, then a shadowy figure walked in front of the closet. She blindly felt for Mo, then tugged on her hand, pulling her to the floor, as well. "Look out there," she whispered, barely making a sound.

Mo put her eye to the keyhole, waiting for the dark to turn into distinguishable objects. She jerked when a flashlight played across the closet door. She clamped her hand over Julie's mouth. "Don't. Move," she whispered harshly to her loyal band of cohorts. Mo blindly smacked the foot of whomever was behind her to make her point quite clear. Honestly, some days, it was like she was dealing with children.

Julie pulled her head away from Mo's hand. The four ladies held themselves motionless, Alex and Tate not understanding why but willing to play along and not risk Mo's ire. After five long minutes, Julie moved to look through the keyhole. Mo grabbed her. "No!" she mouthed, and shook her head vigorously. "Something is out there, I can feel it."

They waited. Julie looked at the glow-in-the-dark hands on her orange Swatch. Five minutes passed, then ten. The only sound heard was a mysterious, moist sound and a rustle of clothing from the back of the closet.

Julie turned to look to the back of the closet, but was unable to see anything in the inky blackness. Thank heavens. Probably she would have to bleach her eyes if there was light. "You two behave," she whispered.

She tugged on Mo's hand to bring her closer. "If they start moaning, we're going to get caught."

"Alex, Tate… you moan and you die. Keep it quiet," commanded Mo.

Silence was the only answer.

They froze again when a loud shout and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh came from outside the closet. Mo put her eye to the keyhole, heart pounding. "There are two people, beating each other senseless."

A flashlight laid on the floor, it's beam only slightly illuminating a fight. Who was fighting? Julie pushed aside Mo to look through the keyhole then gasped. "It's Mulder and the priest!" she whispered.

"Are you kidding me?" whispered Mo.

Mo shoved Julie's head away from the keyhole so she could peer through it. "Who is that on the floor?" she wondered.

"There's someone on the floor? Let me see," said Julie. She positioned herself in front of the keyhole. "I think it's the woman F.B.I agent. She looks unconscious."

"What should we do?" Mo said. "Should we help or stay in here?"

Just then, a wicked punch to the jaw felled Agent Mulder. At that same time, a crash inside the closet caused the priest to freeze, then face the closet.

"Oh my head," moaned Tate.

Alex's flashlight clicked on. "Turn. That. Off!" Julie whispered harshly.

"Too late," said Mo in alarm. "He's coming over here!"

She scrambled to her feet, knife in hand. Looking at Julie, she said, "Got my back?"

"You bet your ass," promised Julie.

"On the count of three then. One. Two. Three." Throwing open the closet door, both women rushed out, screaming at the top of their lungs. Mo held her knife in a death grip, ready to gut whomever might attack. Julie's hands were clenched into fists. But no one attacked. No one was there.

Lowering her knife, Mo said, "Where did he go?"

A disheveled Alex emerged from the closet. "Where did who go? Holy crap, Mo, you knocked out the F.B.I. guy?" She moved to kneel by the agent sprawled bonelessly on the floor.

Tate came out of the closet, rubbing her head. "You are so going to get arrested for this," she said, looking at Mo.

"I didn't do that!" exclaimed Mo. "The priest did it!"

"You aren't very believable," said Tate.

Mo growled, then walked over to turn on a lamp. "Oh no," she moaned.

There, half hidden by a giant wooden screen, lay Agent Scully on the floor. Blood dripped onto the wooden floor from a cut on her throat. Her torso was bare of its leopard print blouse. Julie leapt into action. "Alex find me something to put on her throat to stop the bleeding. Tate, call 9-1-1!" yelled Julie.

Just then, Mulder groaned and tried to sit up. "Scully. Scully! Are you ok? Scully answer me!"

Mo knelt beside him and pushed on his shoulders to try to keep him supine. "Mulder, take it easy. Julie is taking care of Agent Scully. You were unconscious. You don't need to get up yet," said Mo.

Ignoring her, Mulder struggled to his feet and staggered over to Scully. "Scully, wake up. Look at me, Scully!" He grabbed her hand and held tight, as if trying to give her his strength.

Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer, then coming to a stop in front of the house. The assuringly normal sight of two EMTs carrying a stretcher and medical supplies greeted Tate when she opened the front door.

Gesturing towards the two agents, she stood with her arms folded across her middle, biting her lower lip in worry while waiting for the police to arrive. She idly wondered if she was going to end up arrested right along with Julie and Mo.

After lifting Scully onto the stretcher, the EMT looked at Mulder. "Buddy, you look like someone rang your bell. Let me see if you have a concussion," and he pulled out his penlight to shine in Mulder's eyes. "Yep, you're coming to the hospital too. Wait here while we bring in another stretcher for you."

The group was silent until the EMTs exited with the still unconscious Scully. "Mo," said Mulder. "I don't know why you are here, but I think we better say that you four were with me."

"Alright," said Mo, subdued by the evidence of violence around her.

Mulder explained his story quickly. "The skin-walker attacked Scully before she ever entered the bar. I got out in time to see him enter this house. It's definitely the priest, Mo. Be careful. Tell the police you didn't see anything." He rubbed his pounding head. "Tell them we left the bar together, and saw Scully being dragged into this house, but couldn't see who was dragging her. Keep it simple and stick to the story no matter what. Got it?"

Mo nodded.

Julie answered for the group. "We understand, Mulder. You go to the hospital and take care of that head. We will take care of things here."

He didn't have to say anything aloud because the look in his eyes said thank you.

Once the police arrived and the two agents were taken away in the ambulance, the four women provided their rehearsed story to the police. With no further questions, they were released to go home. Walking around the corner towards the bar, Mo stopped. Her three friends halted beside her. "What now, Mo?" asked Alex.

"We have to go back," she said.

"We missed a clue, didn't we," said Julie.

"How did you know?" asked Mo.

"Elementary, my dear Mo."

"Sherlock again? Really?" asked Mo.

"Hey, Benedict Cumberbatch being here right now would make this whole situation a lot better."

The two chuckled, then turned to Tate and Alex. "Coming?" asked Mo.

"I think we already did," said Tate.

Mo groaned. "You have the nerve to make fun of my jokes?"

The four of them laughed, relief at being safe making them slightly giddy, then Alex said, "I think this is another one of your 'situations'. I think you two will be fine on your own. I, for one, am going back to minding my own business."

Tate nodded in agreement. "I am going home to my own bed. I suggest you two do the same, but I know you won't. So be careful. If you get arrested, call me after a decent time in the morning to bail you out."

They hugged each other, then Tate and Alex walked hand in hand towards Alex's car. Julie and Mo looked at each other, then back to the house. "It's now or never. We know it's empty right now, but it may not be empty for long," said Mo.

"I know," said Julie nervously. "Come on, 'if it must be done, then tis best done quickly.'"

"Sherlock again?" asked Mo, as they walked down the street.

"MacBeth," said Julie.

"Didn't MacBeth die at the end?"

"Shut up," said Julie, effectively silencing Mo. Both women shivered.

Nearing the house, the two hid behind a parked car in order to watch the house.

Julie glanced over at Mo, then said, "Ready?"

They scurried over to the window they had before used to gain entry. It was closed, but the trashcan was standing nearby. "It worked once, it should work again," said Julie, dragging it over.

She tipped over the can and hiked her leg up to climb on top. Two hands grabbed her waist and lifted her back down. Two large hands. "Hey," Julie exclaimed. She turned around and gaped. "What are you doing here?" Standing before her was Edgar Spotted Bear, and he did not look happy.

"Taking up a life of burglary? I thought the music career was going better than this," he said.

"I'm not burgling!" Julie protested.

"Sure looks like it to me," said Edgar. "We may not be a couple anymore, but I'm not letting you do something stupid."

Julie looked at Mo, then at Edgar. If he was determined not to let her enter, then she wouldn't be able to enter. He was a 6 foot 3 inch barrier of solid muscle. A hunky barrier, but still a barrier. Right now his fists were at his hips and he looked mad.

She looked back at Mo. "You explain, but make it quick."

"Why me?"

"Because I'm not talking to him."

Edgar slapped a palm to his forehead. "I ran over here to stop her, why? Why do I do this to myself?"

"Cut the drama, Edgar. You are so not built like a drama queen," snapped Julie.

He smiled, "Made you talk."

Julie growled, then Mo said, "Edgar, stop. Here's the deal. A skin-walker is killing women and he made a move on Julie who did something she regrets, but after she did it then she found a map that led us out to a weird place in the country, but then he shot at us so we staked out his place and two FBI agents came and then they came here and we followed them. They got attacked inside and now are both at the hospital, and there is a clue inside that we we need to see so we can figure out what is happening." She paused for breath, and Edgar turned two furious brown eyes on Julie.

"You _slept_ with him? We just broke up!" He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he pinned Julie with a cold look. "We're done. You do what you want to do. I'm finished." He turned to walk away.

Julie reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. Edgar shrugged her off, like knocking off a mosquito. "Edgar, stop!" She ran in front of him, trying to balance while walking backwards in high heels. She planted herself squarely in his path, and slapped both of her hands on his hard chest. "Stop, I said."

He stopped, unwilling to push her out of the way, and looked over the top of Julie's head.

"That night we broke up… I was so hurt that you wanted to see other women. I went to the Crazy Parrot, and I got wasted. I couldn't think; I didn't want to think. And then this priest came, and next thing I know we're in bed. I'm sorry!"

"You slept with a _priest_? I don't even know you anymore."

"I don't think he was really a priest. And that's beside the point."

"Right. The point is we broke up and you immediately hopped in the sack with another man," said Edgar through gritted teeth.

"What were you doing, huh? _You_ were the one who wanted to see other women! Don't judge me for doing the same thing you were doing."

"I didn't say I wanted to see other women," he said. "I said I needed some space."

"That's bullshit," Julie said furiously. "Every woman knows that 'needs space' is the same thing as 'date other women'."

"Well not in this case. I just had to take a step back from _us._ You consumed me. All I could think about was you; I only wanted to be with you. I just had to figure us out. But this…" Edgar shook his head. "I feel like I've been gutted."

Julie took a step nearer to Edgar and gripped her hands together, knuckles white. "I'm sorry. With every ounce of me, I'm sorry. I hate myself for what I did, and I don't even know how it even happened. I wasn't expecting it to happen, I didn't plan for it. But you need to realize what you did, too. You threw _us _away. What I did was wrong, but what you did to us was also wrong." She twisted her hands together nervously. "Edgar, we have to talk, but," she paused. "But, right now I have a building to break into so I can figure out what the hell is going on here."

Edgar rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm coming with you. Someone needs to be with you two who isn't dressed in a mini-skirt."

Julie looked into Edgar's eyes, then turned and ran back to the house and started to scramble back on top of the garbage can. Once again, Edgar lifted her down. "Let me go first," he said. "Then I can help you two inside."

Effortlessly, he lifted himself up by his fingertips, pushed open the window and climbed inside. Julie looked at Mo. "He is so ripped. I'm so shallow that I can think of that right now."

Mo smiled, "Yes, you are. But let's just enjoy the moment, shall we."

Edgar's face appeared in the window, then he whispered, "Mo, help Julie up here and I'll lift her through the window."

Mo boosted Julie onto the trashcan, and Edgar carefully pulled her inside. Then Julie stuck her head out the window. "Mo, you better do something with the top of that dress. I don't want Edgar scoping out the girls."

Edgar chuckled, and Mo looked down at her dress. "Hey, this is your dress, sweet thing. We're just going to have to remember that we're all friends here." She lifted a long leg and climbed atop the can, then grasped the helping hand that pulled her into the house.

"Thanks for being my friend," snickered Edgar. Julie elbowed him. Mo looked down, mildly embarrassed. She adjusted the dress yet again, then headed into the hallway with Edgar and Julie close behind..

"The screen I want to see is this way, I think," said Mo. She felt her way along the dark hallway, wishing for Alex's flashlight. The hallway ended in at the living room, where they had hidden in the closet. There, by a window, was the tall, wooden screen. The trio walked up to it.

"What is this?" asked Edgar, tracing his finger over a carving.

"I don't know. This looks Native American in design. I don't know… it just seemed like something we needed to look at more closely. Maybe get some pictures," said Mo.

The three examined the design closely, then Edgar reached into the front pocket of jeans and pulled out his keys. Attached to the keyrings was a tiny penlight.

"Geez, does everyone carry a flashlight?" muttered Julie.

Edgar shot her a pithy look, then turned on the flashlight, being careful to keep the beam focused directly on the screen.

Julie got out her phone and tapped the camera button. "Hold your flashlight on there, and I'll take pictures," she said. The two worked together silently, while Mo peered at the different etchings.

"These show a man turning into different animals," she said finally.

"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," Julie said.

"This isn't really proof of anything, but it is another link between the skin-walker and the person in this house," Mo said. 'I guess it's safe to that's the priest, after what we saw with Mulder and the fight."

Finished with their photos, they traveled back down the dark hallway and climbed out of the window, closing it behind them.

Edgar moved aside the garbage can and then the three walked around the corner away from the house, stopping to huddle together to talk. "Now what?" asked Julie.

Mo thought. "Let's go to the hospital to see Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. Maybe these carvings will make some sense to them."

Julie turned to Edgar. "Call me so we can talk. Maybe tomorrow?" she asked.

"Forget the phone call. I want to meet the F.B.I. agents," he said.

"But…" she spluttered.

"Julie, just be quiet for now. I have some curiosity too, and you two seem like you need someone to watch out for you. Come one, we'll take my car." Without waiting for a response, Edgar caught Julie's hand in his and led the way.


	8. Chapter 8

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 8

Agent Mulder opened his eyes in time to see a tired looking Mo, a subdued Julie, and an angry looking hulk of a man enter his hospital room.

"Aw, you shouldn't have," he said facetiously.

"Shouldn't have, what?" asked Mo.

"Shouldn't have come to see me in the hospital," he said,

A nurse emerged from behind a divider curtain, pulling it open from between his bed and the other side of the double room, revealing Agent Scully in her hospital bed.

Scully looked wan, with a large bandage swathing her throat. She opened her eyes and gave a small smile to Mulder, then transferred her gaze to the visitors.

"Hello," she whispered. "I can't talk very loudly, but thank you for coming."

Mo looked a little guilty. "We didn't really come to visit. We came to show you some photos we took from inside that house."

Mulder looked interested. "Photos of what?" he asked.

Julie stepped forward and handed him her cell phone. "It's a weird screen that was in the house. Just look at the carvings that are on it. We hope that you can shed some light on just exactly what it is."

Mulder looked at the photo and started to thumb through the other pictures on the phone, pausing to stare at each picture on the screen. In the midst of his perusal, Mo snatched the phone out of his hand and appeared to double check the pictures. "Yep, that's all of them," she said hastily.

He gave her an odd look. "Ok." He shook his head in a puzzled manner. "Anyway, these appear to show totems and the 'clizyati'- priests who have attained the highest level of power because they kill. Sometimes this is called 'blood magic'."

"Power for what?" asked Mo.

"All sorts of things," said Mulder. "Power provides an ability to transform into the likeness of a human that he is close to, or to change into animal form. He can make charms that allow him to read thoughts, or control the thoughts and movements of someone."

Scully gasped, then gently touched her throat. She whispered hoarsely, "Mulder... a charm. The man who attacked me wore different charms braided into his long hair. I just remembered."

Mulder rose from his bed, open hospital gown notwithstanding, and sat carefully beside Scully. He gently smoothed her titian hair from her face and spoke quietly to her, "Scully, it's ok."

Scully looked up at Mulder. "I couldn't move," she said brokenly. "All of sudden, there was this intense sexual desire and I couldn't help but going with him. But the whole time, I was screaming inside for you to come and help me."

Mulder bent over Scully and touched his lips to her forehead, then dizzily raised his head and wiped at his eyes. "Scully, the 'clizyati' are powerful. He's killed seven women to gain his power. I suspect you never had a chance to escape because he used that power to control you."

Julie spoke. "What do you mean, control?"

Mulder turned to look at her. "Just exactly what I said to Scully. She never stood a chance because the 'clizyati' took control of her thoughts and her body. You probably experienced the same thing, only we didn't know it because we didn't realize the priest was actually a high level skin-walker."

Julie looked stunned. "You mean he made me have sex with him? That he forced me to be with him?" She pressed a hand to her stomach. "This makes me feel sick, but at least I don't have to hate myself anymore."

Edgar spoke up. "You mean to have me believe that there is a man basically mind-raping then body-raping women?" His brown eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched.

"Yes. Julie is a victim. So is Scully. And there will be more unless we stop this person," said Mulder.

Julie sank down onto the hard, uncomfortable hospital chair, hand still held over her stomach as if fighting nausea. She looked at Mo. "I'm not a slut," she said wonderingly.

Mo got down on her knees in front of Julie. "Oh honey, of course you aren't. And even if you had gone to bed with him willingly, you still wouldn't be a slut." She reached up to give Julie a hug. "How are you feeling about this? You've had something forced on you that you didn't really want to happen."

Julie lifted her bowed head. "All this time, I've had this feeling inside that I didn't really want to be with that man, but then I'd remember that intense arousal, and I would think I was just trying to rewrite history. But really, that whole night I was fighting him in my heart. Not wanting to be there, but my body wouldn't listen."

Mo held Julie's hand. "Julie, you know yourself. You know how you feel about Edg...uh..about things. You know the loyalty you have. And now you know you were forced."

Julie looked up at Edgar. He was staring at the two of them, not moving a muscle. "Edgar?"

He swallowed, opened his mouth, but no words came out. Closing his lips together, he slowly walked over to Julie, then knelt beside the chair, looking at Julie. He raised a hand tenderly to her hair and stroked it. "All my life, my grandmother has told me the stories. I know about skin-walkers, about the evil of the 'clizyati'. But I've never believed. This story is unbelievable, except I hear the truth in your voice, and in the voice of the others in this room."

Tears gathered in his eyes, and with a groan, he gathered Julie into his arms. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry that I caused you to be in a situation that allowed someone to harm you." His voice broke as he wept.

Mo got to her feet and moved out of the way of the embracing couple. She looked at Agent Mulder. "How do we catch this bastard?"

Mulder looked at Scully, taking stock of her condition. "Mo, I think it's up to you and me. And maybe Julie and...who is that anyway?"

"That's Julie ex-boyfriend, Edgar Spotted Bear. I have a feeling they aren't so ex anymore," said Mo. "That's a good thing, by the way."

"Let me get dressed," said Mulder. He attempted to stand, but staggered with dizziness. "Uh, I may need a little help; the concussion is sticking around. And maybe someone could get me some ibuprofen. Or some vodka."

Mo grabbed Mulder before he could fall, and guided him to lie back in the hospital bed. "Mulder, I think you're going to have to stay here. The three of us can go and do whatever you think needs done."

Mulder closed his eyes in pain. "You may be right. Ok, we need to discuss this. Gather around." He paused. "I saw this guy change from a leopard into a man. At least I think it was a leopard." He grimaced. "The leopard was standing over the top of Scully. Her throat was already bleeding, and the leopard had a paw raised like he was going to claw her."

He gestured to a bag of files on the built-in cabinet. "In there are pictures of the other victims. They've all been ripped up, as if with knives or sharp claws such as a leopard with have. Their bodies had pieces missing, and yet no one could explain how a wild animal had scavenged bodies that were inside of a locked house. That's how we got called in. It's an X-File. Multiple murders, without any rational explanation. Scully and I make up a division of the FBI who investigate 'X-Files.'"

Mulder looked at Julie. "You and Scully were too close to being dead. Another few seconds, and Scully could have been slashed to pieces. For some reason, Julie, he wanted more from you than just dinner. You should be thankful. Three hours is a long time to have been with him without ending up dead."

Edgar spoke up. "My grandmother's stories say that an arrow dipped in white ash is the only thing that will kill a skin-walker. But to shoot him, we have to find him. We should look for someplace where he keeps his pelts."

Julie smiled. "I think we can help with that. Would a taxidermist shop be someplace that a skin-walker could hide in plain sight?"

Edgar stood. "That sounds like the perfect place to hide. Let's get you home, and you can give me directions how to get there."

Mo went to the door. "Edgar, we are modern women and we don't need to cower at home while the big, brave man rescues us. The three of us will go together. And I get first dibs at popping some white ash into him." She stalked out of the room.

Edgar looked at Julie. "I want you safe, Julie. He's already hurt you once. I don't want him near you again."

Mulder spoke from his bed. "You're right to be careful, Edgar. He will want to retaliate against Julie because she got away. He is opportunistic, and will take any chance he gets. It's his nature." Mulder reached under his pillow and withdrew his service revolver. "I'm going to make sure he gets no chance at Scully. You make sure he doesn't get to Julie."


	9. Chapter 9

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 9

In Tate's darkened bedroom, Alex awoke with a start. Eyes wide open, she stared around the dark room.

Someone was pounding on the front door. At 1 in the morning. Reaching beside her, she shook Tate. "Wake up!" she said urgently. "Someone is at your door!"

"Huh?" Tate said groggily.

"Someone is at your door, I said. Hear that?"

Tate got up and belted a robe around her nude body. "What do you want to bet this is another 'situation'," she grumbled.

"I wouldn't take that bet," said Alexis. She began pulling on her clothes as Tate exited the bedroom.

"Hold your horses!" yelled Tate. "I'm coming!"

Tate crossed the front room, which was illuminated by the embers in the fireplace. She took a peek through the peephole and saw Edgar. Alarmed now, she unfastened both deadbolts and opened the door. "What's...oh." Edgar came through the front door, followed by Julie and Mo. "I see there's a 'situation' after all." She took in the fact that they had changed from party wear into hiking gear.

Mo plopped down on the red buffalo plaid sofa in Tate's living room, and propped her feet on the coffee table. "You wouldn't believe all that has happened since you went home," she said.

Tate smirked. "Neither would you."

"Get your mind off of your sex life and concentrate! Since you and Alex left, we broke back into the house, saw two FBI agents attacked, went to the hospital to see said FBI agents, and Julie and Edgar got back together again. I think," announced Mo.

"That remains to be seen," said Julie. She tugged Edgar to sit beside her on the brown leather loveseat that sat at right angles to the red checked sofa.

Tate pointed to the clock over the mantle. "It's after one in the morning. What was so important that you had to wake us up?"

Alex entered the living room and paused, surveying the group. "Who wants coffee?" she asked. Four hands rose. "I'll be in the kitchen," she said.

Edgar looked uncomfortable. "We wanted to borrow your truck, Tate, but I didn't mean to barge in and disturb you. I didn't realize you'd have company."

"You want my truck again? Where are you going this time?"

Julie spoke up. "We need your truck to get back to the taxidermist place. We need four-wheel drive. There's no time to get stuck." She paused. "Tate, tonight I found out that the priest isn't really a priest, and somehow he did a mind-meld thing and forced me to do what I did with him. I have to find this guy and make him pay."

Edgar reached over and took Julie's hand. "We will make him pay," he promised.

Tate stood without moving and thought quickly. Coming to a decision, she held up a hand to ask for silence. "I will loan you my truck, _but, _I am driving. And you have to tell me the whole story on the way out there."

"You have to take me, too," said Alex, carrying a tray of coffee mugs. "And I want to hear about the priest from the beginning. The _very _beginning. Oh, and sip slowly. I added a little something to warm the insides."

After taking a sip of the coffee, Mo said, "I think we'd better get our plans made before we leave." The five would-be heroes plotted until the spiked coffee was gone, then Tate excused herself to get dressed. Shortly thereafter, they all got into the extended cab truck, Tate at the wheel. Tate backed out of the driveway, then said, "Ok, let's hear the story, Julie. We know a little bit about your 'incident', but we need all of the details."

Julie relayed her encounter with the priest, not leaving out any details, despite the growing tightness of the grip that Edgar had on her hand. Maybe the whiskey helped, maybe it was the relief she felt, but she stayed calm even when explaining her internal struggle and the loss of control she had felt over her thoughts and actions. Then she told about Scully and Mulder, and what she found out from them that helped her to come to grips with her experience.

Quiet reigned in the car when she finished, with all five lost in their thoughts. Finally, Alex broke the silence. "I don't know what to say. This seems so crazy. Is it possible that you were drugged?"

"No. I mean, I can't be positive, but I believe what Agent Mulder had to say. His version fits what happened more closely than being drugged."

Edgar spoke for the first time since Julie began her story. "Julie, how did this priest manage to get control of you?"

Julie looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. We were in the bar, and then we were at his house." She spoke defensively.

"I just meant that we need to know before we find him. We don't want any us in his power again," Edgar said soothingly.

Julie closed her eyes. "I guess I feel a little touchy about all of this."

Mo reached across Edgar's large frame to pat Julie on the hand. "Anything you could remember would help."

Julie gazed out at the dark night through the car window. "I remember the guy coming to my table and introducing himself as Father Andrew. He said that I looked troubled, and wondered if he could help. So I asked him if he wanted to join me at my table. I mean, he was a priest not a normal stranger! He bought me a drink, and …" her brow furrowed. "He asked me about my blouse." She licked her lips nervously, and closed her eyes in order to concentrate. "Something about looking at my blouse, looking at the pattern...I remember just staring and staring at it. What do you think caused me to do that?" She looked at Mo.

"Do you think you could have been hypnotized somehow? You were wearing a leopard print…" Mo gasped.

"_A leopard print blouse_. And he is a _leopard _when he shifts shape! Could that be how he controlled you?

Because you had that link between you? Mulder said he was a 'clityacht' or something like that, and I kind of got the impression that included serious evil warlock skills."

Julie pondered this connection for a second. "First of all, I don't think that was quite the name. But I think you could be right. Evil Witchcraft Hypnosis would account for me doing exactly what he wanted me to do even though part of me wasn't willing. But… why did he let me live? Everyone else died."

Alex said, "Technically, we only know of the people those FBI agents told you about. There could be people who survived, and you are one of them."

Mo looked doubtful. "I think Julie's right. She's the only survivor. Her and Agent Scully. And he didn't let Agent Scully go - he got interrupted by Mulder."

"She's going to remain a survivor," promised Edgar. "That freak is not getting his hands on Julie again."

The truck slowed. "I think we're here," said Tate. The small taxidermy shop was illuminated in the truck's headlights. Tate stopped the vehicle and shut off the engine. Five people sat motionless, staring through the dark at the small building, lost in their own scenarios about facing a killer.

Alex was the first to speak. "Does everyone have their weapon?" Small murmurs indicated the affirmative. "Then let's do this." She pulled on the door handle and jumped down from the cab of the truck. Tate emerged from the driver's side, and the other three quickly followed.

Edgar waited for Julie and Mo to gather close to him. He spoke softly to Alex and Tate. "You remember what to do? You stay together no matter what. If you see him, put in your earplugs so he can't talk to you, and tackle the guy. Scream like a banshee when you get him so we can come running."

Alex nodded, but Tate said, "This is not my idea of a good plan. Earplugs are going to keep us from hearing each other. And I'm not a screamer. If I catch him, he's going to get a knee in the nuts and _he _can be the screamer who alerts you."

"Crushing his scrotum is a good, but the earplugs are your protection. If you hear him, he might hypnotize you. Please just do it; wear the ear plugs," said Mo.

Edgar took over the conversation. "We will go in the front door and we will stay together, too. Julie's safety is the first priority, and getting the skin-walker is second." He pulled out a wicked looked hunting knife that was covered in a powdery substance. "But if he tries anything, and I mean anything, I won't hesitate to use this. Do you each have your weapons? And you dipped it into the fireplace ash at Tate's house?" All four ladies nodded solemnly. "Ok then. Like Alex said, let's do it."

Edgar crouched and ran to the front door of the taxidermy shop. Julie and Mo were on his heels. He twisted the doorknob, and after a calming breath, entered the building. Cautiously, he moved to one side of the doorway so that the two women could step inside. He shook his head when Julie began to whisper. She stopped immediately, and nodded to acknowledge his silent order to stay quiet.

Mo pushed the door shut behind her. The plan was for the three to stay back-to-back so no one could sneak up on them, and they would search the building for a leopard animal pelt. Once found, they would destroy it to hopefully end the skin-walker's power.

Walking in a group of three was harder to do in real life than when the plan was envisioned. Whomever had to walk backwards bumped into those who were moving forward. On the other hand, no one was willing to leave their backs unprotected in a dark building filled with mounted animals and a possible killer.

Julie jumped when a small flashlight illuminated an end table. She jerked her head to look at Edgar. "Why are you using a flashlight?" she hissed.

"Because we can't see a damn thing!" snapped Edgar in a whisper. They stared at each other, then Julie nodded. "Ok. But be careful," Julie said. With the flashlight's size being small, it was a slow adjustment for their eyes to see in the cluttered room.

Julie's eyes landed on a framed photo on a table by the recliner. She tugged on Mo and Edgar's arms to get them to move towards it. Once close, she picked it up. The 5X7 framed photo showed a happy-looking red-haired woman smiling out from the frame. She had signed the photo with _To my husband, Love, Alice. _"Do you think this is _his _wife?" Julie asked.

Mo nodded. "Looks like it. I wonder what else we will find?"

Edgar crouched down to pull out a photo album from the bottom shelf of the table. "Think he's in here? I'd like to see what he looks like so I know who we are hunting." Julie held the flashlight on the album while Edgar flipped the page, Mo peering around his shoulder.

The first few pages were filled with candid photos of a typical wife...laughing protests, awkward poses, staged shots. They looked closely at each photo, searching for a likeness of the priest. Edgar turned another page. As one, they all gasped.

An obituary from a newspaper was saved on the paged. "_Lisa May Sylvester_" was pictured, with the dates of her death eleven years previously. According to the obituary, she died on a mountain hike. Listed as a survivor was Andrew Sylvester, husband.

Another article on the facing page featured the headline _Husband Detained for Questioning in Wife's Death. _Julie read the article aloud as the three strained to read the newsprint with only a flashlight to illuminate the words. She read:

_Sacramento authorities detained Andrew John Sylvester for questioning in the death of his wife, Lisa May Sylvester. Ms. Sylvester allegedly died while on a hike in the San Bernardino mountain range after becoming separated from her husband. Sylvester found the body of his wife three days later. After three days in the wild, animals had ravaged the remains of Mrs. Sylvester, making the autopsy difficult. Sylvester declined comment except to say he is fully co-operating with police in the investigation. _

"That poor man," said Julie. "Do you think that is what drove him to murder?"

"Poor man, nothing!" said Mo. "That man murdered his own wife! And judging from her red hair, I have to wonder if he is killing red-haired women still. I wish I had Mulder's files so I could look to see if the other women were red-haired too."

Edgar turned another page. "This guy is sick. Who keeps a picture like that?" Displayed was a photo of Lisa Sylvester's dead body. Animals had torn sections of the body to shreds, along with the leopard print t-shirt and cargo shorts.

Julie looked faintly nauseated. "Why would the police give him a photo of his wife's crime scene?" she asked.

"Wait a minute," said Edgar. "I don't think that is a crime scene yet. Check it out - no markers or labels on the ground, the lighting is bad…" he looked up at Julie. "What if this Sylvester guy took the crime scene picture himself, before the police got there?"

"Just because he might have taken a picture of his wife's body doesn't mean he killed her," reminded Mo. "It just means he's a sicko."

"There could be a good reason," said Julie optimistically. "Maybe he was afraid the animals would do more damage before he could get police to her."

Mo privately thought that was not likely, but if thinking Sylvester had an altruistic motive made Julie feel better, then she had no problem with it.

Edgar slowly flipped another page, as if he dreaded finding out what was featured next. This time, a yellowed article titled, ""_Wealthy Field Scientist Missing_" was encased under the plastic protector in the photo album. "Oh no," whispered Julie. "Mo look, that's the same article as the one at my house."

"You're right," said Mo. She waved her hand in a 'move it' gesture. "Turn the page, Edgar. See if there are more." Edgar followed her command, and came across another gruesome photo of a dead woman. Just like the body of Lisa Sylvester, a photo of a dead body was displayed. This one was not decayed to the extent of Lisa Sylvester's, but the throat was torn out and the body shredded or clawed by what must have been a wild animal. Each subsequent page had death photos or newspaper articles about missing persons, or both. Mo bumped Edgar out of the way with her hip and thumbed through the pages, counting. The two friends watched her silently. Finally, Mo shut the photo album and looked up. "Eight missing or dead people are in this album."

Edgar's face looked grim. He put an arm around Julie and hugged her, then pulled his pistol out of the pouch at his waist. "I get the feeling that the police were right to suspect Sylvester of hurting his wife. I wonder why he wasn't a suspect in any of these other deaths? And where do you think he is?"

Mo looked around the main area of the taxidermy shop and gave a small shiver. Glazed eyes from mounted animals stared at her from all around the room. She jerked her head toward a closed door. "We haven't looked in there yet. I'm sure he isn't in there since we've been standing out here gabbing. But if he had tried to sneak out, Alex and Tate would have caught him. Of course, that's if he is here in the first place."

"You know Alex and Tate are hating us right now," stated Julie.

"Why's that?" asked Edgar.

"Because we've been in here forever, and they are standing out there in the dark, in the cold."

"Oh please," said Mo. "Once they get a safe place to stand, they'll be on each other like velcro."

"True that," said Julie. She looked toward the closed door. "Edgar, I think I'm going to let you go first." Julie hooked a finger into the belt loop of Edgar's jeans, and stayed on his heels as he slowly walked to the door. Reaching it, he paused, ear pressed to the door, listening. Hearing no sound, he nevertheless held his pistol ready in his right hand. With his left hand, he slowly twisted the doorknob, then threw open the door.

The door slammed into the wall and rebounded, slamming shut again. "Take it easy there, He-Man," said Mo. "How about I get the door and you get the gun ready?" Without waiting for an answer, she moved to Edgar's left side and pushed open the door.

Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen. Julie let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Looking at Mo, she noticed Mo standing with a hand on her chest, and saw her take a deep breath. Even Edgar looked relieved at the normality of the room. She looked around more slowly this time. A cot was pushed against a wall, covered with an army green sleeping bag. At the end of it was a rusty Igloo ice chest. Boxes of canned supplies lined the was on the floor by the cot. Evidently the owner of the taxidermy shop used this room for sleeping and for the-coming-apocalypse preparations.

"Let's look around, just to be sure we don't miss anything," said Edgar.

Just then, a tap sounded at the window. Julie held her breath again, and Mo pulled her own gun from its holster. The two shared a frightened look, then turned their eyes to the window. Edgar slowly walked to covered window and stood without speaking.

Another tap. Edgar slowly put his left forefinger behind the heavy curtain and lifted it ever so slightly away from the glass. He smiled. "It's the girls," he said. He pushed the curtain aside and spoke through the glass. "What?" he asked.

"It is freaking _scary _out here!" said Tate. "Are you guys done yet?"

"Meet us at the front," ordered Edgar. He adjusted the curtain to settle back over the window and turned to Julie and Mo. "What now?"

"I don't know," said Julie morosely. "I guess we could all hit the bars to see if we can find him there."

"Do you think we should take the photo album?" asked Mo. "Or should we just call the police and have them come and get it?"

Julie's eyes widened. "We can't call the police about that photo album! We shouldn't even be in here! I'm pretty sure it's illegal for us just to waltz right in here. Besides, our fingerprints are going to be all over it!"

Edgar shrugged. "We can explain the prints. I think we have to show them the album. We just need to figure out how to do it so the evidence doesn't get thrown out of court."

"Hey guys…" started Mo.

Julie interrupted. "Thrown out of court? What do you know about evidence and throwing something out of court?"

"Guys…" said Mo in a worried voice.

"I'm not stupid. I may not be a lawyer, but I have common sense," retorted Edgar.

"Be quiet!" said Mo in a sharp voice.

Edgar and Julie turned to her. "Don't tell me to be quiet," stormed Julie, then she fell silent as she saw Mo's face. Edgar asked, "What's wrong?" and stood alertly.

"We've been talking for quite a while. Shouldn't Alex and Tate be here by now? All they had to do was walk around the side of the house and come in," said Mo. Her worried eyes looked beyond the door towards the darkness of the main part of the building.

"Maybe they waited outside by the door," said Julie tremulously.

"Julie, get behind me," demanded Edgar. "Mo, you too." His gun pointed at the door, never wavering. "Now scoot away from the door, over to the left." He wished vainly for a light to illuminate the main room. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Every instinct for survival told him that something evil was just beyond that door.

A low, menacing growl made the rest of the hair on his body stand up. Julie whimpered. Mo released the safety on her revolver. "Julie, where is your weapon? Get it out now," demanded Mo.

Before Julie had time to respond, a snarl came from the darkness. "Oh God, please don't let anything be wrong with Tate and Alex," whispered Julie. She fumbled in her hoodie and pulled out a pink taser with rhinestones decorating it.

"You brought the _taser_? Did you ever test that thing to see if it works?" asked Mo.

"You wouldn't let me try it on you, so how was I supposed to test it?" snapped Julie. "Besides, it's guaranteed to work."

Edgar never took his eyes from the blackness of the doorway. "Ladies, we don't have time for this. We're going back to the original plan...stay together and make sure we have our backs together. We need to maneuver out of this house and get outside to see where the hell Tate and Alex are. Got it?"

"Yes," said both women in unison.

"On the count of three," said Edgar. "One… Two… Three."

At three, the two women stood at angles from Edgar and the three of them inched their way towards the door into the main room. The animal fell silent. "I don't think that's good," said Julie worriedly.

Edgar took another step and crossed the threshold into the dark room. He let out an anguished cry as a large, black shape leaped at him and with one powerful swipe, ripped at his throat, then hid in the darkness once more. Blood poured down and Edgar collapsed on the floor. Julie began screaming, "Where is it, where is it?"

Mo grabbed her cell phone and punched the 'flashlight' app. This proved to cause more harm than good because the bright beam illuminated their location perfectly and provided too clear of a view of Edgar. There was no sign of the cat. Julie continued to wail uncontrollably.

"SHUT UP!" Mo yelled. Julie quieted and knelt protectively over Edgar, applying pressure to the wound at his throat. "Julie, get out your phone and call 9-1-1. If I do it, we lose the light."

She keyed in the three digits with one bloody hand, then sobbed when she saw that no signal was available. Just then, a growl caused her to shriek and drop the phone. With a shaking hand, she picked up her taser and held it ready.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," said Mo in a sing-song voice. Julie's response was to give a small laugh that bordered on hysteria. "Come here, you son of a bitch. Play with someone who is ready for you." She turned around slowly, using the flashlight beam to search the darkness for the skin-walker. She ceased talking, listening intently for any sound that would give away his hiding place.

"What's the matter, kitty? Don't like us looking at your pictures in that sick photo album?" A roar greeted her remark, and the two women whipped around to stare in the direction of the roar. "Why did you kill your wife? Bad cooking? No ironing skills?" Mo taunted.

There was a crash as the skin-walker in his leopard form vaulted from the door and across an end table to get to Mo. The sound alerted Mo and she began firing, dropping her phone as she did so. The black figure leapt towards her, claws raking her left arm. She braced herself for impact, but the ash-covered bullets had found their mark and the large leopard fell to the floor, his golden gaze staring at nothing, sides heaving. Julie took a look to ensure he was not moving anywhere, and scuttled over to Edgar. Mo stood with gun ready, in case the cat showed signs of attacking again.

The cat blinked his eyes once and gave a soft growl, then his muscles began cramping and then changing, fur disappearing, paws transforming into hands and feet, until a naked man lay at Mo's feet. Blood drained steadily from wounds on his torso. Mo's mouth had fallen open, and she wished in vain for her phone so she could have taken pictures of the transformation. Alas, the phone was still on the floor, flashlight app still lighting a small portion of the room.

Without looking away from the skin-walker in human form, Mo spoke to Julie. "Find me something to tie his arms and legs," she said.

"But he's shot! It's over. It's over, isn't it?" said Julie.

"I don't trust him," said Mo. "Just get me something."

"Hang on," said Julie. Rising to her knees, she quickly stripped off her shirt and placed it on Edgar's throat as an impromptu bandage. Pulling the elastic band from her head, she gingerly pulled it over Edgar's head and down to his throat to hold the shirt securely in place. Then, she got to her feet and within a minute, Julie brought Mo some twine she had found among the taxidermy supplies. The two women made quick work of getting his hands and feet bound, pushing aside a leopard skin pelt to reach the proper places to tie him. "What if he shifts his shape?" asked Julie.

"It won't matter," said Mo. "He's tied up tight."

"You know what?" said Julie. "We were going to destroy that leopard pelt, remember? We were thinking he won't be able to shift shape without it, and then we won't have to worry about it."

Mo looked thoughtfully at the pelt. "Well, that is our plan...and it still makes sense to me. I don't know what gives him his powers, but if he has to wear it to change shape then the pelt must have some sort of power. Let's do it. But make sure you have Edgar's bleeding stopped first...and dammit… where's Alex and Tate? Dammit, dammit, dammit! I've got to find Tate and Alex." Julie cautiously took her hands away from where she was applying pressure to Edgar's throat and watched to see if bleeding restarted. Satisfied with the results, she got to her feet and picked up the leopard pelt. After a brief consultation with Mo, they decided the best method of destruction was to put the pelt in the bathtub and burn it there. To be on the safe side, Mo picked up the pelt from the sleeping area and added it to the bathtub. She also grabbed matches and lighter fluid from a box of supplies in the kitchen area.

"Hurry!" urged Julie. "I need to be with Edgar. I don't want that bleeding to start again."

Mo covered the pelts with lighter fluid, lit a match, and threw it onto the fur. With a _whoosh_, the two furs lit and began to burn, emitting a stink that quickly caused her eyes and throat to feel raw. The skin-walker screamed. Mo ran back to the main area to stand by him, while Julie went to stay by Edgar.

The skin-walker glared at Mo. 'You bitch," he said in a hoarse voice. His eyes promised retribution.

"Listen asshole," said Mo in a gritty voice. "This is the time you should be confessing your deep dark secrets. Because soon, those wounds that I put in your body are going to kill you."

"You wish," he seethed.

"Where are Tate and Alex?"

Sylvester grinned with bloody teeth, and Mo knew she would see that macabre smile in her nightmares. He shook his head. "Such nice friends," he mocked.

"Where are they?" Mo repeated. She was met with silence and his mocking smile.

"One last time, where are my friends?" she asked. She looked at his smile and realized he would never talk. Taking a deep breath, she stood and placed a foot over one of the bullet wounds and pressed. Sylvester groaned. Mo turned white, and frantically wondered just what she was doing, but adrenaline aided her determination to make the skin-walker tell her where he had Tate and Alex.

"They're together," he panted. "Why don't you let me get up and I can show you."

"You are a piece of work," said Mo, wonderingly. "You murder, you rape, and you just keep going on your sick path. _Where are my friends?"_ She pressed harder with her foot. Her voice was cold, as were her eyes.

"If you find them, maybe you can save them. Or you can stay here with me and maybe they don't live," Sylvester said, and groaned as Mo applied more force. "Let me go. I will show you where they are and be on my way."

"Mo, what are you doing?" Julie's shaky voice was appalled.

"It stops here," said Mo. "No more hurting people. Think about what he's done, Julie!" Mo said.

"We'll find Tate and Alex on our own. Don't do this, Mo," begged Julie.

Mo paused, then removed her foot from the skin-walker's chest. "You will never leave this place," promised Mo.

"You can't kill me," he slurred.

"Oh yes, I can. In fact, I have; you just aren't dead yet. Those bullets were crafted specifically to kill you. You should be feeling yourself getting cold," said Mo quietly. "And frankly, I can't find it in myself to care. You deserve this. But, before you die, you could help those families that you ruined by bringing them some closure. Explain why you killed those women."

Blood trickled from his mouth. "Power," he whispered. "Blood magic is most powerful if someone who is loved is the one who dies. I loved Lisa, but I needed more." He coughed, and blood bubbled at his lips. "I kept finding more Lisa's, but the power was never the same."

"That one, though…" his eyes indicated Julie. "She was a waste of time. She wasn't Lisa. She wasn't even really a red-head. No matter what I did with her, the power wouldn't come at all."

Julie's startled glance caught Mo, then she turned her attention back to caring for Edgar. "How did you hypnotize me?" she asked, without looking at Sylvester. He coughed weakly. "The leopard...," he said haltingly, then his eyes closed and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Mo cursed.

"Screw him, Mo. We don't need anything he has to say."

"Julie, take care of Edgar and keep an eye on that thing. I'm going outside to look for Tate and Alex." Without waiting for a response, Mo went outside to track down her friends.

Julie set her taser within reach and bent over Edgar, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Mo went outside, holding her gun in one hand ready for danger. Her phone with the flashlight app shining was in the other. Emerging from the house, she began a systematic search of the grounds around the house.

From the darkness came a muffled groan. Carefully, alert for trouble, Mo walked towards the noise. Her flashlight beam landed on a pair of boots under bushes against the small shop. Kneeling, Mo spotted Tate, unconscious. Shining the beam further, she saw Alex. Alex was on her hands and knees, trying to push herself to her feet. The groan had come from her.

Mo rushed to her. "Let me help you," she said, and put her arms around Alex to boost her to her feet. Alex swayed and put an arm around Mo's waist to steady herself. "I think he hit me," she said. "Is Tate ok?"

Mo cast a look at Tate. "I'm not sure yet," she said. "Let's get you inside and I will come back out for her." The pair walked slowly into the taxidermy shop. Mo helped Alex to the recliner, then went back out into the night for Tate.

She was still unconscious. Mo holstered her gun, and hooked her arms beneath Tate's armpits and began pulling her into the shop. Groaning, because this was not nearly as easy as she wished it to be, Mo moved to set her phone down and saw that she had two bars of signal. Mo dropped to her knees to maintain her signal and quickly called 9-1-1. After being promised a fast response from law enforcement and an ambulance, Mo returned to her task of getting Tate into the building.

Wincing when Tate's heels bounced across the threshold, Mo finally finished dragging her friend inside. She was undetermined where to place her when she heard Julie scream, and found herself knocked flat on the floor. Mo felt for her gun but could not locate it. She reached into the sheath at her side and withdrew her knife. Turning onto her back, she could see the skin-walker in human form lunging for the front door of the shop. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alex painfully rise from the recliner and grab the lamp like it was a baseball bat to use as a weapon and hobble toward the priest.

Mo jack-knifed to a standing position and ran after the him. She tackled the priest in the doorway, knocking him flat. Cursing, he back-handed her across the face and pushed her away from him. Mo fell back, cheek on fire. The priest's hands wrapped around her neck and began squeezing, ever so tightly, so that no air could pass into her tortured lungs.

Her vision dimmed. Then glass showered her when Alex hit the priest on the back of the head with the lamp and it shattered. He fell forward onto her, but his grip on her throat stayed tight. Mo remembered the knife in her hand. In what seemed like slow motion, her arm pulled back as if to chop at ice with a pick, and she forcefully drove the knife into his back.

A scream tore into the night. The skin-walker arched his back and grabbed without success at the blade lodged in his back. He fell to his hands and knees and tried to stand. Mo sucked in gasping breaths, hands at her throat. Freed from his weight, she frantically tried to scoot out from under him.

Alex lifted her foot and kicked savagely at his head, making contact with a sound that was loud in the small room. He groaned and sagged to the floor briefly, then pushed himself up on both arms. "Give it up, damn you!" she sobbed as she backed away.

Mo stared in horror at her knife in his back, at the sobbing Alex, at the unconscious Tate, at Edgar lying on the floor bleeding. Her disbelieving eyes saw Julie pressing bloody hands onto the wound on Edgar's throat, ensuring that the bleeding was controlled. She turned her eyes back to the priest and saw that he was standing and had once again turned toward her.

"No," she whispered. Mo slowly pulled the gun from the holster at her side and lifted the pistol with shaking hands. "Stop," she said quietly. The priest took another step towards her. "I said stop," she commanded. Her grip on the pistol tightened.

The priest stood still, then slowly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his gun. He wavered unsteadily. "Shoot me, it won't do any good. You can't touch me."

"Shut up," Mo said. She didn't take her eyes off of him.

"I touched your friend over there. For hours. She loved it. Craved me, in fact."

"Shut up!" Mo yelled. Julie sobbed from where she knelt by Edgar.

"She begged me for it, all night." He took another step in Mo's direction.

"I said stop. I mean it. Don't take another step," said Mo.

Julie ran forward, pink taser at the ready. Five paces from the skin-walker, she squeezed the trigger. Electrodes burst forward, zapping the man with electrical current. He jerked involuntarily, but still stood. He smiled and took one step forward.

Mo pulled the trigger on her pistol. The reverberation of the weapon deafened her. The sight of the priest's chest erupting into a fountain of red was more than Mo could take. She slowly sank to the floor of the small cabin, pistol still gripped tightly, eyes on the skin-walker crumpled on the ground.

Alex watched, tears streaming down her face. "Is he dead?" she asked tremulously.

"I don't know," Mo said quietly. She took her phone out of her pocket, noted that she had two bars of service, and sighed. "Looks like I get to tell the police I shot a man."

Julie moved to stand by Alex.

Mo fixed her gaze on Alex. "What the hell happened?" asked Mo. "He was tied up!"

"I don't know," panted Julie. "We used that twine and somehow he got out. Let me look in the kitchen for something else. Hell, I'll tear up my tshirt if that'll give us something to use."

After pawing through kitchen drawers, Julie found duct tape. Mo and Julie trussed up the skin-walker in layers of duct tape to ensure that this time he was secure. Mo was uncaring of the way the duct tape stuck to the arm hair of the priest.

Alex walked to the window and peered outside. "There's a car coming," she announced.

The car slid to a stop, and Agent Mulder got out, his weapon in hand. Mo went to the door and opened it, leaning wearily against the frame as she waited for him to approach. Unsteadily, he walked to her and paused, examining the welt on her face, the bruises on her throat, the blood splatter on her clothes. Mulder gently touched her face. "What happened?" he asked.

Mo stepped aside and silently gestured for Mulder to enter. Stepping into the room, he stopped when he took in the scene before him.

"Mo?" he asked weakly. ""Is this the priest?"

"Yes," she answered.

Mulder walked over and kicked the skin-walker in the leg. "Sorry, I tripped," he said. He knelt on the floor and whispered something into the skin-walker's ear that was unintelligible to the other occupants in the room.

When finished, Mulder stood and looked around the room. "It took me a while to figure out how to get here," he said. "This guy came to the hospital. I was asleep, and he snuck in a tried to kill Scully. He apparently did not expect me to have a gun. I stopped him, but he escaped. I came here on a hunch that this is where he was coming. And you know the rest."

Exhausted, Mulder sat down on a chair at the table. Sirens in the distance could be heard. "Why don't you fill me in on what happened before the police get here."

Mo and Julie looked at each other. "Well, we had a plan…" they began. The two relayed the events of the evening, gratified that Mulder believed every word they said.

At the same time that their story ended, an ambulance and sheriff's deputy pulled up in front of the shop. Finally, help for Edgar was here, and justice was served for the skin-walker.


	10. Chapter 10

Yee Naldooshi

Chapter 10

Agent Scully straightened the lapel of her gray blazer, refraining from fidgeting in her chair at the front of Assistant Director Skinner's desk. She slid a glance to her left to see how well her partner was doing at sitting still.

Mulder sat without moving, his gaze on AD Skinner, almost in a confrontational manner. "Yes sir, I do expect you to believe what my partner and I wrote in that report," he said.

Skinner threw said report onto the desktop in disgust and turned his gaze to Scully. "You of all people, Agent Scully...you are asking me to believe our villain is a shapeshifter?" He voice was mocking.

"Sir, during my career with The X-Files, I've seen things I cannot explain. I have experienced the unbelievable. Always, I rely on science to make sense of these phenomenon. I fully believe a scientific explanation is possible, but I have not had the opportunity to do an autopsy on the perpetrator."

Mulder rolled his eyes and tried to remain silent.

Scully continued. "Unfortunately, the perpetrator's body is not available for autopsy because it disappeared from the morgue. Therefore, I can neither substantiate Agent Mulder's claims, nor can I disprove them."

Unable to stay silent any longer, Mulder said, "Technically, _sir_, the perpetrator was a skin-walker not a shapeshifter. The effect is similar, but the origin is entirely different."

Scully heroically refrained from making comment.

"Furthermore, there are other X-Files where skin-walkers make an appearance. Sylvester impersonated a priest and used that as a way to murder seven different women after murdering his own wife. He used his power as a clityani to change his shape to accomplish these evil deeds. As far as we can tell, there was one survivor, Julie Steiger."

Skinner looked back at his report. "You wrote that _civilians_," he practically hissed the word, "were instrumental in the capture of the perpetrator."

"Yes sir," said Scully. Ms. Steiger and her singing partner, Ms. Morgan Baker, consider themselves amateur detectives. They purposefully interfered in order to participate in the investigation. However, for the purpose of full disclosure, they were an integral part and we possibly would not have caught the perpetrator without them."

"These civilians and their friends were injured because of the willingness you both displayed in allowing them access to this investigation," Skinner accused.

"They would have been involved regardless of anything Scully and I did," defended Mulder. "This is a hobby for them, and Ms. Steiger was already targeted before Scully and I ever arrived."

Skinner sat in thought, thumbing through the pages of the report. Several long minutes later, he laid it flat on the desk and looked at the two agents. "Re-submit this report to reflect corrections made to the supernatural nature of the events. Turn in your claims at the same time. I expect all of it on my desk before you leave tonight. You are dismissed."

Without a word, Mulder and Scully exited the plush office. Once in the hallway, Mulder whirled to speak to Scully. "Gee thanks, Scully, that was great back-up in there. When are you going to leave off the scientific explanation crap? You know what you saw!"

Scully calmly looked at him. "I do know what I saw. But I also know that there is a rational way to explain what I saw. I just don't know what that rational explanation is yet. Besides, I was injured and drugged with painkillers." With that, she smiled at Mulder snidely and walked to the elevator.

_6 months later_

Julie and Mo bowed to the audience, applause ringing in their ears from the encore. Smiling, they exited the stage, hyped up on adrenaline from a successful show. Another successful performance, a good crowd, and a bigger venue than usual. But more important things waited.

Mo grabbed face cleanser and hurriedly began to remove her stage make-up. Julie did the same.

"Do you think we should look for clues tonight?" Mo asked.

"I don't know. It's a four hour drive just to get to the woman's house and Edgar will want to go, too," answered Julie. She glanced over at the roses on her dressing table that her fiance' sent without fail to every performance. A knock at the door interrupted her next statement. She went to answer, then shrieked in surprise. "Alex, Tate!"

She embraced both and stood back as Mo ran over to throw her arms around the two for an exuberant hug.

"You two look fabulous!" said Mo, standing back to look at the two visitors.

Tate smiled. "You'd be surprised at how much less stress I feel after quitting my job. No more government workplace equals one happy woman."

Julie laughed. "I still can't believe you star in a reality show on female fisherman. Er… is that female fisherwomen? Fishgirls? Fish female?"

Mo gave Julie an easy shove. "Stop while you're ahead," she laughed. Gesturing to a comfortable sofa and chairs in the dressing room, the group sat down to visit.

After catching up on news, Alex cleared her throat. "We have something to tell you." She looked slightly embarrassed, but happy.

"What is it?" asked Julie.

Without saying a word, Alex held up her left hand, showing off an elegant ring on her third finger. Julie and Mo jumped up and grabbed Alex's hand, whooping with excitement.

Tate grinned and held up her own hand. "I have one, too," she said.

After congratulatory hugs, Mo and Julie returned to their seats. "When are you getting married?" asked Julie.

"It depends," said Tate. "Would you do us the honor of being best friend and maid of honor?"

Mo and Julie exchanged delighted smiles, then both nodded. "Name the date and we'll be there," they promised.

Plans for investigating a missing heiress vanished from Mo and Julie's minds as they began discussing wedding plans with their two good friends. There was time for being detectives later.

The End


End file.
